954- 
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I902. 


UC-NRLF 


B   3   32H   214 


BY 


TSS  HOBBS 


i^T 


JEROME  K.  JEROME 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  2e-30  West  38th  St.,  New  York 


THE  REJUVENATION  OF  AUNT  MARY.   ^ 

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SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  SSUx  Street,  New  York  Citv 

New  and  Bxplioit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mall'ed  Fm'on  R^uest 


MISS   HOBBS 


a  ComeDp  in  four  ^tt0 


BY 


MR.    JEROME    K.    JEROME 


Copyright,  1902,  by  T.  H.  French 


All  rights  reserved 

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New  York 

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publisher 

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London 

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26  Southampton  Street 

STRAND 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of  this 
book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first  having 
been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right  or  license 
to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play  publicly 
or  in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance,  representation,  production, 
recitation  or  public  reading  may  be  given  except  by  special 
arrangement  with  Samuel  French,  28-30  West  38th  Street, 
New  York.  Attention  is  called  to  the  penalty  provided  by 
law  for  any  infringement  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows : 

"Section  4966: — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  rep- 
resenting any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which 
copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his 
heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  thereof,  such 
damages,  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less  than 
one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every 
subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be 
just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation  be 
wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty 
of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  shall  be  imprisoned 
for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year," — U.  S.  Revised 
Statutes :  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


MISS  HOBBS. 


ACT  I. 


i^CENE. — The  drawing-room  of  the  Kingseap.ls*  house  at 
Neivhaven,  {New  York,)  an  old-fashioned  hrick-built 
house.  A  large  semicircular  bay  window  at  back 
looks  out  upon  the  other  side  of  a  typical  country- 
house  street.  There  is  only  one  door  to  the  room  up 
1.,  above  the  fireplace.  When  the  curtain  rises  the 
room  is  empty  and  in  darkness,  the  blinds  being 
drawn  down.  (N.  B.  The  room  is  on  the  first  floor.) 
The  clock  on  the  mantelpiece  strikes  ten,  then  the 
door  opens  and  enter  Miss  Susan  Abbey,  shown  in  by 
Charles.  She  is  an  elderly  maiden  lady,  a  cheerful, 
hustling  soul.  She  wears  her  hair  in  curls  each  side 
of  her  head — is  wearing  a  bonnet  and  carries  a  small 
hand-bag.  Charles,  a  lad  of  fifteen,  wears  a  pair  of 
flannel  trousers  and  a  yachting  jacket  with  the  collar 
turned  up  round  his  neck. 

Miss  A.  (entering,  crosses  to  c,  stumbles)  Oh, 
what's  that! 

Choles.  (coming  down,  picking  it  up)  Master's  hat. 
He  always  flings  his  hat  on  the  floor  when  he's  vexed. 
(goes  to  window  c,  and  pulls  up  blinds;  the  morning 
$un  streams  in). 

Miss  A.     (e.  c.)     Have  I  damaged  it? 
Charles,     (drawing  up  the  blinds)      You've  not  im- 
proved it,  ma'am. 

Miss  A.      Where  is  your  master?     (puts  bag  on  table 

»  c.) 

Charles.     I    don't    know,    ma'am.     He    hasnt    come 

home  yet. 

Miss  A.    When  did  he  go  out?     (crosses  a  little  to 

L.  c. ) 

Charles,  (comes  down  r.  of  table  a.  o.)  Last  night, 
ma'am,     (puts  hat  on  table  b.  c.) 


144 


MISS   HOBBa 


PRODUCED  AT  THE   DUKE   OF  YORK'S  THEATRE, 
LONDOX,  DECEMBER  18th,  1899. 


Wolff  Kingsearl Mr.  Herbert  Waring 

PERCIVAL  KiNGSEARL Mr.  Allan  Aynesworth 

George  Jessop ,, ^Mr.  Cosmo  Stuart 

Captain  Sands Mr.  J.  W.  McDonald 

ChablES. ^r.  George  Curtiss 

Mrs.  Kingsearl Muv  4gnes  Millar 

Miss  Susan  Abbey Miss  Susie  Vauqhan 

MiLLlCENT  Farey Miss  Ida  Yfoland 

Miss  Hobbs -STiss  Evelyn  Millard 

Produced  at  The  Lyceum  Theatre,  New  York,  September  7, 1899. 

Original  Cast. 

Wolff  Kingsearl Charles  Richman 

Percival  Kingsearl. Orrin  Johnson 

George  Jessop Joseph  Wheelock,  Jr. 

Captain  Sands T.  C.  Valentine 

Charles Francis  Sedgwick 

Mrs.  Perciyal  Kogsearl Clara  Bloodgood 

]\Iiss  Susan  Abbey Mrs.  O.  H.  Gilbert 

Millicent  Farey \j:aM.  Morrison 

Maid  Servant Elizabeth  Rathburn 

Henrietta  Hobbs Annie  Rusteii 

Act  I.     The  DraTving  Room  at  the   Kingsearls*  house  aj 
3rev?havea  (New  York). 
Act  n.     Drawicg  Room  at  the  Mill  House. 
Act  III.     Cabin  of  the  vacht  "Gk)od  Chance. " 


^  MISS  HOBBS. 

Miss  A.  Good  gracious!  Has  he  been  walking  about 
the  streets  all  night? 

Charles,     (e.  c.)     I  can't  say,  ma'am. 

Miss  A.  Dear,  dear,  dear,  dear!  Where's  your  mi»- 
tress? 

Charles.     In  her  room. 

Miss  A.    How  does  she  seem? 

Charles.     She's  a  bit  rocky. 

Miss  A.    A  bit  rocky? 

Charles.    Upset,  ma'am,  excited. 

Miss  A.  They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  themselves, 
both  of  them.  Not  married  six  months  yet,  and — 
{crosses  to  c.)  Why  haven't  you  got  your  livery  on, 
Charles? 

Charles,     (b.  c.  sulkily)     I  have  got  it  on. 

Miss  A.  You  young  scoundrel!  How  dare  you  stand 
there  and  tell  me  a  story,  which  I  can  see  with  my  own 
eyes. 

Charles.     It  isn't  a  story.     It's  underneath. 

Miss  A.  Then  why  are  you  wearing  those  things 
over   it? 

Charles.  Because  I  hate  the  sight  of  It.  Why  should 
I  be  labelled  a  slave  all  over? 

Miss  A.  Oh,  you  silly  child.  I  have  no  patience  with 
you.  You'll  get  into  trouble  when  your  master  comes 
in.     What  was  the  quarrel  about  ? 

Charles.  Between  master  and  mistress,  ma'am?  Oh, 
the  old  thing  ! 

Miss  A.     Do  you  mean  Miss  Hobba? 

Charles.  Yes,  ma'am.  It  always  ends  with  her,  even 
If  it  begins  a  bit  fre.sh. 

Miss  A.  That  woman  is  going  to  be  the  curse  of  all 
our  lives.  It's  wrong  to  wish  anybody  any  harm,  I 
know,  but  if  Providence  in  its  mercy  could  see  fit  in 
some  painless  manner — to — 

(The  door  opens  and  enter  Beula — she  is  an  exception' 
ally  girlish  looking  looman — is  dressed  for  going  out, 
carries  her  gloves  in  her  hand  together  with  a  smo.ll 
tag.  She  enters  quietly  and  sloicly,  the  Ix-g  and 
gloves  she  lays  on  taVie  near  door,  then  come-:  for* 
ward  and  kisses  her  aunt.  She  is  very  pale  and  red- 
eyed  and  carries  unmistakably  the  manner  of  a  per' 
son  who  has  teen  up  all  night.) 

Miss  A.     (b.   of  c.   as   she   kisses  Beula)     My   dear 
child,  you  are  looking  half  dead. 
Beula.     (l.  of  c.)     I  am  not  feeling  very  well.  Aunt 


MISS  HOBBS.  5 

Miss  A.  I  got  your  note.  T  dressed  and  came  round 
Immediately.     What  is  it  all  about V 

Bella.     Oh,  the  old  thing  ! 

Miss  A.     Miss  Ilobbs? 

Beula.     Miss  Hobbs  is  not  old. 

Miss  A.  I  don't  mean  that.  I  mean  It  was  the  old 
quarrel  about  her. 

ii.  L  LA.  She  was  dragged  into  it,  of  courst^.  11"  a:.' 
earthquake  happened,  poor  Miss  Hcbbs  would  be  at 
the  bottom  of  it.     {crosses  a  little  to  l.) 

Miss  A.  {aside)  I  wish  to  goodncbs  one  would  coma 
along. 

BtuLA.  (comes  back  to  c.  quic'iJy)  Just  be-^ause 
Bhe's  my  friend,  {sees  Charles,  v:'\o  is  b.  c. )  Why 
haven't  you  got  your  iivery  ou,  CI. cries? 

Charles,     (b.  c.)      1  have  got  it  on. 

Miss  A.  (  k.  of  c. )  He  has  get  it  on  underneath. 
He  objects  to  be  labelled  a  slave — so  he  says,  the  young 
idiot! 

Beula.  We  ar^  all  slaves,  Charles,  of  one  kind  or 
another.  You  wear  your  livery,  I  mine,  {is  turning 
her  wedding  ring  round — crosses  back  a  little  to  l.  c. ) 

Miss  A.  (c. )  Yes,  but  he  don't.  You  pay  for  a 
page,  and  you  have  a  thing  that  looks  like  an  early 
bather  that's  lost  its  towel. 

Chables.  (b.  c.)  I  can  stand  it  in  the  house.  I've 
got  accustomed  to  the  gibes  of  tlie  female  servants. 
It's  when  I've  got  to  go  out  I  can't  bear  it.  The  boys 
call  me  Dicky  and  sprinkle  bird  seed  in  front  of  me. 

[{He  is  a  pigeon-breasted  youngster.  Is  picking  up  the 
shattered  fragmcifs  of  a  wedding-cake  ornanKnt 
which  with  its  broken  glass  case  lies  on  the  floor 
near  side  table  b.,  he  is  putting  therii  in  the  ddmaged 
hat  which  he  has  brought  over  for  the  purpose) 

Miss  A.  (c.)  In  another  month  that  boy  will 
expect  you  to  dress  him  in  a  frock  coat  and  send  him 
out  in  the  carriage. 

Bel-la.  (l.  c.)  After  this  morning  It  will  be  some- 
body else's  task  to  manage  him. 

Miss.  A.    Whose? 

Beula.    Anybody's.     I  am  leaving  this  house  for  ever. 

Miss  A.  {crosses  to  her  l.  c.)  Now  don't  talk  like 
that,  Beula,  because  you  know  you  don't  really  mean  it. 

Beula.  I  do  mean  It.  Whenever  I  say  anything 
I've  been  thinking  over  for  years  and  years,  someborly 
says  "  Oh,  yoa  don't  mean  it."  It  does  make  nie  so 
mad! 


^  MISS  HOBBS, 

Mrss  A.  You  can't  have  been  thinking  over  H  fof 
years  and  years,  you  know.  You've  only  been  married 
six  months. 

Beula.  The  sensations  of  a  lifetime  can  be  crowded 
Into  six  months.    Be  as  quick  as  you  can  there,  Charles. 

Chaeles.  It's  the  glass,  ma'am;  it's  all  over  the 
place. 

Miss  A.  But  nothing  extra  has  happened?  Nothing 
that  hasn't   occurred   beiore? 

Beula.  Nothing  that  would  not  happen  again,  were 
I  to  remain  here.     He  has  struck  me! 

Miss  A.  {in  amazement)  Struck  you!  Impoa- 
Bible. 

Beula.  (with  a  low  laugh)  So  I  should  have  said 
six  months  ago. 

Miss  A.  But  this  is  terrible.  Whatever — {hreaka 
offf  hearing  a  noise  outside  door  l.) 

(^The  door  opens  and  enter  Pekcival,  He  is  an  exceed- 
ingly hoyish  looking  young  man  of  adout  22.  He 
likewise  hears  unmistakable  signs  of  having  been 
up  all  night,  tut  in  addition  is  untidy,  his  hat  on 
the  "back  of  his  head.  He  looks  round  room  a?i(J 
appears  somewhat  nervous  and  doubtful  of  entering. 
He  lays  his  hat  on  table  r.  c.  and  comes  forward  to  c.) 

Peb<3.     Good   morning,   Aunt   Susan.     Good    morning, 
Beula.     (both  women  return  his  salutation  very  stiffly) 
Miss  A.    Good  morning,  Pereival. 
Beula.     Good  morning.  ^    . 

(Chaeles  has  risen  and  is  crossing  in  front  of  table 
B.  c.  to  c,  with  hat  full  of  fragnients) 

Peec.     (c.)    What's  all  this? 

Charles,  (l-  of  table  r.  c.)  It's  the  wedding  cake 
ornament,  sir,  what  you  overthrew  last  ni^ht.  I've  just 
been  picking  up  the  bits. 

Perc.  Can't  you  find  anything  else  to  put  them  in 
but  my  hat  ? 

Charles.  It  was  damaged,  sir.  Miss  Abbey,  sir,  trod  on 
it,  sir. 

Perc.     (c.)     Take  it  downstairs. 

Charles,   (r.  of  c.)     Yes,  sir,     {is  going) 

Perc.     Stop  !     (Charles  stops)     Where's  your  livery  ? 

Charles.  I  just  put  these  things  over  it,  sir,  to  go 
out,  sir. 

Perc.     Take   them   off  !      (Charles   hesitates)      Take 


MISS  HOBBS.  7 

them  off  this  minute!      (Chables   begins  to  untutton^ 
puts  hat  on  chair  l.  of  tahle  e.  c. ) 

Miss  A.  (l.  of  o.)  You  are  sure  you've  got  the 
Other  things  on  underneath,  Charles? 

Charles.  Yes,  ma'am,  (takes  off  the  coat,  puts  it  on 
back  of  chair  until  he  has  taken  off  trousers,  picks  up  hat, 
coat  and  trousers — is  going) 

Perc.     Don't  let  me  ever  see  those  things  again. 
Charles.    No,  sir.     (exit) 

Perc.  Sit  down,  Beula,  please.  I  want  to  speak  to 
you.  (Beula  sits  down  l.  in  armchair)  Won't  you 
take  a  cliair.  Aunt?  (places  chair  from  up  l.  above 
fireplace  for  her)     Beula,  I  owe  you  an  apology. 

Beula.  (l.)  Oh!  To  what  particular  occasion  are 
you  referring? 

Miss  A.     (sitting  l.  c.)     You  can  be  irritating:.  Beula. 

PtEC.  (c.  gulping  down  his  feelings)  To  last  night. 
I  lost  my  temper.     I  behaved  very  rudely. 

Miss  A.     She  says  you  struck  her. 

Pekc.  That  is  rather  an  exaggerated  description  of 
the  Incident.  But  technically  it  is  correct.  I  boxed  her 
ears. 

Miss  A.  It  doesn't  sound  so  dreadful  put  that  way. 
Was  it  only  a  box  on  the  ear,  Beula? 

Beula.  I  do  not  remember  the  exact  spot  where  tho 
blow  fell.     (l.  on  settee) 

Pebc.  I  really  don't  think  I  could  have  hurt  you, 
Beula. 

Miss  A.     Did  he  hurt  you,  Beula? 

Beula.     It  is  not  a  question  of  physical  pain. 

Miss  A.  Of  course  not,  it  was  the  indignity.  But 
he's  very  sorry  and  very  much  ashamed  of  himself. 
You  are  very  much  ashan:ed  of  yourself,  aren't  you? 

Peec.  I  admit,  that  though  exposed  to  an  amount 
of  prove 

Miss  A.  (interrupting)  Yes,  yes,  never  mind  about 
your  exposure.  You  are  very  sorry  and  you  ask  her 
forgiveness,     (on  chair  l.  of  settee) 

Perc.     I  ask  her  forgiveness. 

Miss  A.  There  you  are;  he  asks  you  to  forgive  him, 
and  it's  your  duty  to  do  iL  You  forgive  him  don't 
you? 

Beula.  As  you  say,  Aunt,  it  is,  I  suppose,  a  wife's 
duty  to  forgive  assaults. 

Miss  A.  There  you  are!  She  forgives  you!  Now 
that's  all  over. 

Pekc.     That  incident  is,  I  hope,  closed. 

Miss  A.  Thank  goodness!  (starts  to  rise,  Peec.  with 
a  motion  of  the  hand  prevents  her) 


i  MISS  HOBBS. 

Perc.     (o.)     And  now.  Aunt,  in  your  presence,  calmify 

and  dispassionateij'  we  will  discuss  the  original  cause 
of  cleavage  between  Beula  and  myself. 

MiS3  A.  (rises)  Don't  you  think  we  had  better 
have  breakfast  first? 

Beula..  {rises  and  turns  to  fireplace)  Another 
breakfast  under  this  roc  '  would  choke  me. 

Miss  A.  {crosses  to  Beula,  takes  her  hand,  learls  her 
a  little  to  L.  o.)  There's  no  need  to  have  it  under  tlie 
roof.  We  can  have  it  In  the  breakfast  parlour.  Come 
along  both  of  you. 

Feec.  (c.  stops  her)  On  this  one  point.  Aunt,  I 
find  myself  In  agreement  with  Beula.  Breakfast,  after 
what  has  happened,  would  be  a  farce. 

Miss  A.  Well,  as  far  as  I'm  concerned,  it  wouldn't 
But  don't  mind  me.  I've  got  a  few  biscuits  in  my  bag. 
And  if  you  two  can  discover  what  you  are  quarrelling 
about  before  breakfast  it  will  be  time  well  spent,  {goes 
to  her  bag  on  table  b.  c.  and  takes  out  some  gingerbread 
nuts)  All  I  was  thinking  was — Are  you,  either  of  you, 
In  a  state  to  discuss  anything  calmly  and  dispassion- 
ately?    {sits  K.  o.  and  eats) 

Perc.  {standing  c.)  I  can  answer  for  myself.  And 
if  Be'ila  will  not  go  out  of  the  way  to  be  exasperating— 

Miss  A.  (R.  0.  interrupting)  That's  a  good  be- 
ginning, that  is. 

Beula.  {seated  l.)  Oh,  do  not  trouble.  Aunt.  I  am 
seasoned  to  insult. 

Miss  A.  {jumps  up)  I  really  think  we  had  better 
have  breakfast  first. 

Pekc.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Aunt.  I  beg  yours,  Beula. 
I  did  not  mean  to  be  insulting.  (Miss  A.  sits  again 
and  eats)     I  merely  want  us  to  understand  one  another. 

Beula.     Percival  thinks  a  wife  should  be  a  slave. 

Miss  A.     Preposterous! 

Perc.  I  don't.  Aunt.  All  I  say  is,  a  man  should  be 
master  of  his  own  house. 

Miss  A.     And   of  his   own   temper,   Percival. 

Beula.  Let  him  be  master  of  his  own  house.  I  mean 
to  leave  it. 

Miss  A.    T^Tiere  k/*©  you  going?     I  won't  have  you. 

Beula.     I  suppose  I  can  die  on  a  doorstep. 

Miss  A.  No,  you  can't.  The  police  won't  allow  It. 
You're  a  silly  child,  and  Percival's  a  fool.  You  haven't 
any  troubles,  so  you've  set  to  work  to  make  'em.  Each 
of  you  wants  to  boss  the  other  and  to  have  youi-  own 
way  in  everything. 

Beula.  I  don't  want  my  own  way.  I  only  want  not 
to  he  interfei-ed  with. 


MISS  HOBBS.  9 

Pebc.  I  should  never  think  of  Interfering  with  you 
If  you'd  only  be  sensible. 

Bf:ula.  What  do  you  think  he  did  the  day  before 
yesterday,  Aunt?  Took  my  new  bicycling  costume  and 
burnt  it  in  the  kitchen  fire. 

Perc.  It  was  one  of  those  beastly  bloomer  things, 
Aunt.    She  looked  awful  in  it. 

Beula..  I  didn't  Besides  that's  not  the  question.  I 
don't  dictate  to  you  what  clothes  you  shall  wear. 

Pep.c.  There  was  a  time  when  you  asked  my  opinion 
about  your  dresses. 

Beula.  You  used  to  say  I  looked  well  In  everything 
I  wore. 

Peec.  So  you  did  then,  before  you  took  all  your  ideaa 
frcni  that  Miss  Hobbs  of  yours. 

Miss  A.     Now  we'll  never  get  to  breakfast. 

Beula.  I  can  understand  you  men  not  liking  Miss 
Hobbs. 

Perc.     Some  disappointed  old  cat! 

Beula.     She  knows  you! 

Miss  A.     Oh,  do  come  to  breakfast! 

Peec.  She  knows  you  a  good  deal  too  well.  For  the 
future  I  forbid  you  to  have  any  connection  with  her 
whatever. 

Beula.     (jumping  up)     You  forbid  me! 

Pekc.  I  forbid  you — As  you  will  not  regard  my 
wishes  I  must  assert  my  authority.  So  long  as  you 
remain  under  my  roof — 

Miss  A.  (jumps  up)  Oh,  drat  your  roof,  both  of 
you!  It  makes  me  tired,  that  roof  of  yours.  Can't 
you  see  what  an  idiot  you're  making  of  yourself? 

Peec.  I  can't  help  it.  Aunt,  I  must  speak.  That 
woman  is  wreckir.2:  my  life.  I  forbid  Beula  to  speak 
to  her  (turns  to  Beula  l.)  to  write  to  her — to  hear 
from  her,  to — (the  door  opens  and  Chaeles  appears) 
Get  out! 

Charles,     (up  l.  c.)     Please,  sir — 

Perc.     (roaring)     Get  out  ! 

(Charles  dives  out  of  siglit,  and  leaves  to  view  Miss 
Faeey,  o  girl  of  about  19,  a  timid  pretty  girl.  She 
is  dressed  in  mannish  walking  costume  that  only 
svcceeds  in  making  her  appear  hy  contrast  still  more 
childish  and  feminine) 

Miss  F.  (hesitating  in  doorway)  I  am  so  sorry— 
I— 

Beula.  (down  L.  c.)  Oh,  this  is  nothing,  dear* 
Come  in. 


10  MISS  HOBBS. 

(Miss  F.  enters,  comes  down  l.  o.) 

You  know  my  husband? 

Miss  F.  (advancing  and  shaking  hands  with  him 
L.  c.)     Oh,  yes,  we  have  met. 

Perc.     (e.  of  c.)     More  than  once,  T  think. 

Miss  F.     (with  a  smile)     Yes,  several  times. 

XPebcival  crosses  down  bach  of  tahle  to  e.    Mibs  A. 
crosses  to  b.  c.) 

(handing  letter  to  Beula)  I  brought  this,  dear,  In 
case  you  might  not  be  in. 

(Beula  opens  and  reads  letter) 

(turning  and  shaking  hands  with  Miss  A.)  How  are 
you,   Miss  Abbey?     Isn't   it  a   charming   morning? 

Miss  A.     (E.  c.)     Umph!     A  bit  breezy. 

Pekc.  (b.  quickly)  I  hope  you've  come  to  stop 
awhile  in  Newhaven. 

Miss  F.  (c.)  Yes;  we've  taken  a  house  for  the  sum- 
mer.   We  are  going  to  do  some  yachting. 

Miss  A.     You  are  with  friends  then? 

Miss  F.  (with  a  laugh)  Well,  only  with  one  at 
present.  But  some  more  girls  are  going  to  join  U3 
later  on. 

(Miss  A.  goes  up  to  back  of  table  n.  c.  with  her  bag,  and 
comes  to  l.  of  table  r.  c.) 

Perc.  Oh,  that  will  be  jolly.  Who  is  the  one  friend 
you've  started  with?    Anyone  I  know? 

Miss  F.     (c.)     Miss  Hobbs — you've  heard  of  her. 

Perc.  (r.  c.  after  a  pause — his  whole  manner  chang- 
ing)    Miss   Hobbs — Miss   Henrietta   Hobbs? 

"Mtss  F.     Yes.     I    am  living  with  her  now. 

Perc.  Miss  Farey,  you  must  forgive  my  apparent 
rudeness.  For  you  personally  I  have  the  greatest 
regard. 

(Miss    F.,    becoming    frightened    at    his    rising    tones, 
hacks  from  him — Beula  looks  up  from  her  letter) 

But  I  cannot  permit  under  my — in  my  house,  the 
companion,  the  bosom  friend  of  Miss  Hobbs. 

Miss  A.  (comes  down  hetween  Perc.  and  Miss  F.  c.) 
Percival,  are  you  going  quite  mad? 


MISS  HOBBS.  11 

Peso.  ft.  o.)  I  shall,  Aunt,  if  I  can't  get  away  from 
this  Miss  Hobbs.  She  has  entered  like  a  canker-worm 
into  my  life's  happiness.  She  has  poisoned  Bc-ula's 
mind  with  a  lot  of  idiotic  new  ideas,  and  now  she 
comes  here  to  live — here  in  this  town.  I  will  be  rid  of 
her  and  her  set  {takes  his  hat  from  taUe  and  -flings 
it  on  floor) 

Beula.     (l.  0.)     You  turn  my  friends  out  of  doors! 

Peec.    It's  for  your  good,     {goes  doion  to  b.  corner), 

Beula.     (l.  c.)     And  you  are  to  decide — 

(Miss  P.  is  moving  towards  door) 

Milllcent,  please  remain. 

Miss  F.  {up  l.  c.  a  little)  Oh  no,  please  let  me  go. 
I  am  so  sorry,     {to  Miss  A.)     I'd  better  go,  hadn't  I? 

Miss  A-     {up  0.)     Yes,  for  goodness'  sake  go. 

(Exit  Miss  F.,  leaving  door  open) 

Peeo.  (turns  down  e.)  To  Miss  Farey  herself,  I 
have  not  the  slightest  objection,  and  I'm  only  sorry — 

(Beula  has  crossed  and  snatched  up  her  gloves  and  bag 
from  tal)le  near  door) 

Beula,  where  are  you  going? 

Beula.  {as  she  goes  a  drops  letter)  To  freedonu 
Millie,  wait  for  me. 

{Exit  L.  cannoning  against  Geoege  Jessop,  who  enters  at 
the  same  moment,  astonished  and  bewildered.  He  has 
teen  rushed  past  t>y  Miss  Fabey  on  the  stairs — is 
a  taciturn  young  gentleman  of  aiout  25,  with  sporting 
tastes.  PERa  rushing  after  to  stop  Beula  also  can- 
nons against  the  unfortunate  Jessop,  who,  still  more 
hevnldered,  to  he  quite  out  of  the  wait,  gets  behind 
tome  furniture  extreme  l.  corner  of  stage.  Miss  A* 
has  crossed  to  £.  up  stage  as  Pebc.  crosses  up  l.) 

Pebc  (as  he  rushes  across)  Come  back,  Beula! 
(reaches  the  door  as  she  slams  it  in  his  face.  She  locks 
it  on  the  outside)  She's  locked  the  door!  {rushes 
across,  looks  for  and  snatches  up  his  hat,  rams  it  on 
his  head,  and  rushes  to  window  as  though  intending 
to  jump  out) 

Miss  A.  (a.  c.  &2/  window  stopping  Mm)  Do  you 
want  a  crowd  round  the  house? 


18  MISS  HOBBS. 

Perc.  (at  window,  looking  out)  They  are  going  oh 
in  a  cab.     What  am  I  to  do? 

MiS3   A.     Don't   you    think   you've   done   enough? 

Perc.  But  where  are  they  going  to?  What — (turns 
and  sees  Jessop  for  the  first  time)  What  the  deyil  ar© 
you  doing  here? 

Jessop.  (l.  c.)  Well,  I  came  principally  to  see  your 
wife. 

Pebc.  icomes  down  b.  c.)  Then  you've  come  to  the 
wrong  house,  that's  all.  She  and  her  friend,  Miss 
Farey,  have  gone  off  together. 

Jessop.  (coviing  out  of  his  corner)  I  passed  Miss 
Farey  on  the  stairs,  bat  she  wouldn't  stop.  W^here  are 
they  gone? 

Peec.     That's  just  what  I  want  to  know. 

Miss  A.  (c,  picking  up  letter  Beula  has  let  fall) 
Perhaps  this  will  throw  some  light  on  the  matter. 

Pekc.  (e.  c,  ta7.es  letter)  "  My  dearest  Beula " — 
This  is  from  Miss  Hobbs.  (turns  it  over)  Evey 
yours  affectionately,  Henrietta  Hobbs  " — the  cat! 

Miss  A.  Never  mind  what  she  is!  Read  what  she 
says. 

Peec.  (reads)  "  My  dearest  Beula.  Just  a  hasty 
scrawl  to  tell  you  I  have  taken  the  old  Mill  House  at 
Mewhaven.  So  now,  dear,  we  shall  be  near  one  another. 
I  mean  to  make  it  into  a  sort  of  Summer  Club  for 
women." — (with  litter  contempt)  Summer  Club! 
"How  is  it  with  you,  dear?  My  heart  bleeds  for  you!  " 
— the  crocodile — "  The  more  I  see  and  hear  of  marriage, 
the  clearer  my  duty  appears  before  me;  to  rescue  women 
from  worse  than  slavery."  She's  mad,  quite  mad.  "  If 
it  becomes  impossible,  remember,  dear,  you  ahvays  have 
a  friend  in  me,  and  a  refuge  under  my  roof — " 

Miss  A.     (c.)     I  thought  it  would  be  under  the  roof. 

Peec.  I'll  prosecute  this  woman.  She's  lured  my 
wife  away  from  me.  (reads)  "  Come  and  see  me  soon. 
Ever  yours  affectionately,  Henrietta  Hobbs.  P.  S.  Mini- 
cent  Farey  has  cancelled  her  engagement  with  the 
Jessop  fellow — (looks  at  Jessop)  and  has  joined  me. 
I  am  so  glad  for  her  sake,  poor  child.  He  was  the 
typical  man."  (lets  fall  the  letter  on  table  b.  c.  and 
looks  at  Jessop,  ihe7i  al  his  aunt) 

Jessop.  (standing  l.  leaning  on  his  stick,  the  picture 
of  dejection)  I  only  got  her  letter  yesterday  morning, 
and  I  came  on  here  last  night.  I  thought  Mrs.  Kings- 
earl  might  be  able  to  help  me. 

Peec.  (r.  c.)  The  only  thing  that  will  help  you  will 
be  Miss  Hobbs's  funeral.  Somebody  ought  to  poison 
that  woman. 


MISS  H0BB8.  13 

Jessop.    I  Bupppose  that's  where  they've  gone. 

Perc.  Oh,  yes.  They've  started  the  Summer  Club  all 
right. 

Miss  A.  Well,  it  might  be  worse.  You  know  where 
•he  is,  and  that  no  harm  will  happen  to  her. 

Pebc.  No  harm!  No  harm  from  companionship 
with  that — (knock  at  the  door,  pause,  then,  irritable, 
goes  up  c.  a  little)     What  is  that? 

(Miss  A.  crosses  to  b.  c.) 

Charles,     (without)     Please,  sir,  a  gentleman 

Perc.     (c.)     Tell  him  to  go  and  hang  himself. 

Charles.  Please,  sir,  he  says  you  will  be  very  glad  to 
see  him. 

Perc.  Then  he's  an  ass.  I  don't  want  to  see  any- 
body.    Vv'hat's  his  name  ? 

Charles.    He  says  the  name  doesn't  matter. 

Perc.  What  is  it  ?  A  tramp  ?  Can't  you  get  rid  of 
him  ?     What's  he  Hke? 

Charles,  {after  a  pause)  A  tall  thin  gentleman  with 
a  sandy — (a  sudden  pause)  I  mean  an  auburn  beard. 
{or  mustache  should  the  actor  prefer  it) 

Perc.  Don't  know  him — don't  want  to.  Tell  him  not 
at  home. 

Charles,  {after  a  pause)  He  says  he's  m  no  hurry, 
and  he'll  wait  till  you  are. 

Perc.  {it  suddenly  occurs  to  him  that  the  man  is  out- 
side and  has  heard  every  word)     Where  is  he  ? 

Charles.     Here,  sir,  outside  the  door,  sir. 

Perc.  {shakes  his  fist  at  door  and  swears  in  silence, 
then  in  a  whisper)  That  boy's  the  biggest  idiot,  {aloud) 
Open  the  door. 

Charles.     Please,  sir,  it's  locked. 

Perc.    I  know  that.    Turn  the  key  and  open  the  door. 

Charles.     Please,  sir,  there  isn't  any  key. 

Perc.     She  has  taken  the  key  with  her. 

Miss  A.     Thai's  a  bit  awkward. 

Perc.     What  are  we  to  do  ? 

Charles.  Please,  sir,  the  gentleman  says  shall  he  put 
his  foot  against  it. 

Perc.     Yes. 

(A  vigorous  kick  follows,  the  door  flies  open  and  Wolff 
enters.  He  is  a  man  of  about  30,  bronzed  with  travel 
and  bearded,  a  cool,  imperturbable  man  of  the  world) 

Wolff,     {coming  down  c.)     Good  morning. 


14  MISS  HOBBS. 

Pe30.  (b.  of  c.  shortly)  Good  morning.  Sorry  to 
keep  yoii  ^?/aiting.  Something  has  gone  wrong  with  the 
lock.     It  often  goes  like  that. 

Wolff,     (c.)     Must  be  very  inconvenient 

Peec.     It  is,  a  little. 

Wolff.    You  don't  know  me. 

Peeo.    To  speak  frankly,  I  don't 

Wolff.  You  were  always  a  forgetful  young  beggar — 
Kingsearl  Minor. 

Perc.  {stares  at  him  for  a  few  moments — Wolff 
remains  standing  with  an  amused  smile  on  his  face) 
Wolff. 

(Wolff  tosses  his  hat  aside  and  they  shake  hands  vigo- 
rously,  laughing   the  while) 

By  Jove,  I  am  glad!  Aunt,  this  is  Wolff  Kingsearl — 
Kingsearl  Major!  You  have  heard  me  speak  of  him — 
the  boy  with  my  name.  This  is  my  aunt,  Wolff — or 
rather  my  wife's  aunt.     By  Jove!     I  am  giad; 

(Miss  A.  has  crossed  to  b.  »f  c,  Pebc.  b.  o.) 

Wolff,  (c.  shaking  hands  tvith  Miss  A.)  To  secure 
such  an  aunt  was  worth  marrying. 

Miss  A.  (b.  of  c,  pleased  hut  amused)  Umph! 
Irish  extraction,  I  presume,  young  man. 

Wolpi^.     (c.)     On  my  mother's  side. 

Miss  A.  (r.  c.)  I  thought  so.  Very  pleased  to  meet 
you.  You  have  come  at  an  opportune  moment,  {to 
Perc.)  Now  vou'll  like  to  talk  to  your  friend,  and 
I  shall  be  glad"  of  my  breakfast.  Youil  find  me  down 
stairs  when  you  want  me.  Good  bye  for  the  present, 
Mr.  Wolff.    I  shall  see  you  again. 

(Wolff  bows) 

Good  bye,  Mr.  Jessop.  (takes  her  Mg  and  crosses 
up — Perc.  accompanying  her — aside  to  him  at  door) 
Don't  take  this  thing  too  seriously.  To-morrow  she  will 
be  sorry.  Don't  do  anything  without  consulting  me. 
Now  promise. 

(Wolff  crosses  to  b.  of  c.) 

Pebc.  I  promise.  You  know  how  fond  I  am  of  her. 
Aunt. 

(Miss  A.  kisses  him  and  exits) 


MISS  HOBBS.  15 

Xcloses  the  door  and  returns  to  c.)  I  am  so  glad, 
Wolff!  Let  me  see,  did  1  introduce  you?  I  don't  think 
I  did.    George  Jessop — 'Mr.  Wojft  Kingsearl. 

(The  tico   men   bow) 

By  Jove  I   you  have  altered,  Wol3! 

Wolff.  One  does,  between  sixteen  and — the  nine  and 
twenties. 

{The  three  men  laugh) 

Peec.  Sit  down  and  tell  us  hov/  you  got  here. 
(Places  chair  which  Miss  A.  used  vc-ir  c.  and  crorises 
hack  to  B.  c.)     The  last  I  heard  from  you  was — {sits 

B.   C.) 

(Jessop  sits  armchair  l.) 

Wolff,  {seating  himself  c.  and  taking  out  his  cigar 
case )     Was  from  Teheran.     May  I  ? 

Peso.     Certainly. 

Wolff.  The  very  morning  after  I  wrote  to  you,  I  was 
ordered  to  Shanghai.  Our  Minister  haa  fallen  suddenly 
{11,  and  a  ticklish  bit  of  business  had  to  be  negotiated 
immediately — was  lucky  enough  to  please  the  chitt',  and 
as  a  reward  received  nine  months'  leave.  Thought  I'd 
like  to  see  the  old  country  after  eigat  years'  absence, 
60  scuttled  across  and  just  caught  the  boat  from  Yoko- 
hama. Arrived  at  Victoria  on  the  first  and  reached 
New  York  yesterday  afternoon,  (lights  cigar)  Thought 
I'd  like  to  put  in  some  yachting.  You  remember  it  was 
always  my  hobby.  Obtained  particulars  of  two  boats 
that  seemed  likely,  one  lying  at  New  Brunsw^ick  and 
the  other  at  Newhaven,  said  I'd  look  at  that  first,  got 
here  at  eleven  o'clock  last  night,  went  over  the  yacht 
tiiis  morning,  and  wired  acceptance.  Then  jumped 
into  a  cab  and  here  I  am.  What  time  do  you  luncli, 
ftnd  how's  your  wife? 

(Jessop  and  Pebc.  Jock  at  each  other) 

Is  she  at  home? 

Peec.  (b.  c.)  Well,  I — she's — I  am  afraid  ycra  won't 
te  able  to  see  her  to-day. 

Wolff,  (c.)  Oh,  is  she — (a  sudden  idea  occurs  to 
him)     My  dear  fellow,  can  I  congratulate  you? 


le  MISS  HOBBS. 

Pero.     Congratulate  me?    Wliat  about? 

Wolff,  {sitting  again)  How  stupid  of  me.  Of 
course  you  were  only  married  in  December.  Travelling 
makes  one  forget  dates.     She's  net  ill,  i  hope. 

Perc.     Oh  no,  she's  lively  enough. 

Wolff,  (puzzled  at  the  other's  tone)  Delighted.  I 
got  the  piiotograph  you  sent  me.  A  charming  girl; 
wants  riding  on  the  curb  I  should  say. 

Pebc.     Yes. 

Wolff,  (after  a  pause)  We're  old  school  chums,  you 
and  1.    What  is  it? 

Pebc.     Oh,  nothing,  she's  gone  out. 

Wolff.     I'm  glad  that's  ail.     You  alarmed  me. 

Perc.  And  she  may  not  be  back  for  a  day  or  two. 
She's  gone  to  stop  with  a  friend — a — Miss  llobbs. 

Wolff.     In  the  country? 

Peec.     No,  no,  close  here. 

Wolff.     Miss  Hobbs  is  unwell  I  presume. 

Perc.  Wis'n  she  was.  (jumps  up)  Wolff,  what's  to 
be  done  with  a  woman  who  maites  it  her  business  to  go 
about  ruining  other  people's  lives,  who  estranges  lovers 
and  breaks  up  homes  ? 

Wolff,  (draws  a  grave  face)  In  my  part  of  the 
world,  we  store  that  sort  in  sacks.  Public  opinion  over 
here — 

Perc.  (interrupting)  Wo,  no!  I  don't  mean  that 
sort  of  bad.  The  woman  wlio  does  mischief  from  a 
sense  of  duty — the  wild  woman.  What  can  be  done 
with  her? 

Wolff.    Tame  her. 

Perc.    Yes — how? 

Wolff.  (shrugs  Ms  shoulders)  There's  on]y  oDe 
way  to  tame  a  woman.     Make  love  to  her. 

Perc.  Yes,  but  this  is  a  woman  you  can't  make 
love  to. 

Wolff.     I  don't  know  that  woman. 

Perc.  I  mean  she  wouldn't  let  you.  She  wouldn't 
listen. 

Wolff.     Never  met  her. 

Perc.  (with  a  laugh)  Ah,  you  don't  know  our  new 
women! 

Wolff.  But  I  do  the  old,  and  I  guess  the  receipt  for 
either  is  very  much  the  same — a  little  difference  in 
the  cooking,  that's  all. 

Jessop.  I  should  like  to  see  the  man  who  would  make 
love  to  Miss  Hobbs. 

Wolff.     Miss  Hobbs  has  eyes,  ears  and  a  mouih? 

Jessop.    I  suppose  so. 


MISS  HOBBS.  17 

Wolff.  Then  any  man.  not  a  fool,  could  do  it— and 
Win  her  within  six  months. 

Peec.    Would  you  like  to  try? 

Wolff.     Thanks,   I'm   over  here  to  rest. 

Peec.  Look  here,  V/olff,  you're  a  sportsman.  I'll  bet 
you  a  dinner  at  Deimonico's  that  within  six  months  you 
don't  kiss  Miss  Hobbs. 

Wolff.  Sorry  to  spoil  your  fun,  but  I  ha\'e  been  un- 
accustomed to  luxuries  for  years.  The  dinner  uGuld 
disagree  with  me  most  certainly — the  lady  probably. 
But  who  is  this  Miss  Hobbs  anyway? 

Pebc.  (exchanges  a  glance  with  Jessop)  Who  is 
Miss  Hobbs? — well  she — (notices  the  letter  lyinr;  on 
table^  takes  it  up,  rises  and  hands  it  to  Wolff)  Read 
that. 

Wolff,  (c.  reads)  *' My  dearest  Beula"— (Zoofc« 
up) 

Peec.     (r.  c.)     There's  nothing  private  in  it. 

Wolff,  (reads  in  silence,  at  the  end  looks  up) 
And  things  did  become  impossible? 

Peso.  It  came  to  a  head  this  morning.  Beula  and  I 
have  had  one  or  two  quarrels  about  the  woman,  last 
night  we  had  another,  and  this  morning 

Wolff,  (interrupting)  This  morning  you  finished 
last  night's,  the  result  scoring  to  Miss  Hobbs. 

Pebo.     That's  what  annoys  me  more  than  anything. 

Wolff.  It  would.  For  the  present  Miss  Hobbs  seems 
Ecoring  all  along  the  line,  (turning  to  Jessop)  The 
"Jessop  fellow"  referred  to  in  the  P.S.? 

Jessop.     (nods)     I'm  "the  typical  man." 

Pebc.  Yeu  see  the  sort  of  woman  she  is.  She  worries 
one  girl  into  breaking  off  her  engagement  with  one  ot 
the  best  fellows  that  ever  lived — 

(Jessop  maka   to  expostulate) 

Yes,  you  are,  George.  1  don't  cay  you  are  prigglshly 
brilliant,  but  you  are  a  good  fellow.  And  not  content 
with  that,  she  sets  to  work  to  lure  away  my  wife — 

Wolff.    From  one  of  the  best  husbands  in  the  world 

Pebc.    Well,  anyhow — 

Wolff,  (rises)  Yes,  you  are.  I  don't  say  you  are 
a  tactful  man,  but  you're  a  good  fellow,  Percival 
(crosses  to  r.  c.  and  lays  his  hand  on  Peecival's 
shoulder)  r--rr\  shell  come  to  Know  it.  (turning  away 
and  glnn  ■  .it  the  letter  again)  She  is  a  woman  of 
character 

Pkbc,     (r.  c.)     Who?    Beula? 
% 


1$  MISS  HOBBS. 

Wolff,  (c.)  No,  I  was  thinking  of  Miss  Hobbs  at 
that  moment.     What's  she  like? 

Pebc.  Like?  By  Jove!  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
I've  never  ?een  her. 

Jessop.     (l.  c.)     Some  scraggy  outsider. 

Wolff.    Have  you  seen  her? 

Jessop.     Never! 

Pekc.  I  know  her.  Big  nose,  pasty  complexion,  thin 
hair,  and  a  TOice  like  a  penny  trumpet. 

Wolff,    Are  they  all  like  that,  these  new  women? 

Perc.  All  !  well,  nothing  is  to  be  gained  by  going 
without  one's  meals.  {to  Wolff)  You  have  break- 
fasted ? 

Wolff.  At  seven.  A  devilled  kidney  round  at  my 
hotel,  (looks  at  watch)  in  half  an  hour  would  make 
the  future   clearer. 

Perc.  All  right,  we'll  join  you.  I  must  change  my 
clothes. 

Jessop.  I  want  a  talk.  I'll  come  upstairs  with  you. 
{crosses  to  l.  c.  to  door) 

Perc.  (b.  c.)  Do.  {to  Wolff)  Well,  you  won't  take 
on  that  bet? 

Wolff.  To  kiss  a  scraggy  outsider,  with  a  big  nose, 
thin  hair,  pasty  complexion,  and  a  voice  like  a  penny 
trumpet! 

Perc.  Come  along!  (crosses  at  back  of  Wolff  to 
h.  0.) 

(exeunt  Peec.  and  Jessop) 

WoLf*.  (c.  alone — smokes  his  cigor,  murmurs  to  hitiu 
9elf) 

"  She  Iw  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  woo'd. 
She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  won. 
She  is—" 

(enter  Charles) 

Charles,     (up  l.  c.)     Oh!     (retiring)     I  beg  pardon. 

Wolff.     Come  in,  Charles,  come  in. 

Charles,  (comes  doion  l.  c.)  I  thought  Mr.  Kings- 
earl  was  here,  sir. 

Wolff.  So  he  is.  I  am  the  old  Mr.  Kingsearl,  your 
master  is  the  young  Mr.  Kingsearl.     ¥7hat  is  it? 

Charles.     Well,  there's  a  lady  downstairs,  sir. 

Wolff.     Shov/  her  up. 

Charles,  Piease,  sir,  I  don't  think  master  would  like 
her  shown  up. 


MISS  HOBBS.  19 

Wolff.    Who  Is  she  then? 

Charles.  Well,  she  don't  say  who  she  Is.  She  merely 
says  she's  one  of  the  maids  from  the  Mill  House,  and 
she's  come  for  the  Missus'  night  things.  But  I  think— 
(looks  round) 

Wolff,     (has  become  interested)     Yes,  Charles? 

Charles,  (c.  coming  forward  confidentially)  I  think 
her  name's  Miss  Hobbs. 

Wolff.    The  Miss  Hobbs? 

Chakles.     Yes,  sir. 

Wolff.     What  makes  you  think  so? 

Chables.  Well,  her  uppishness  for  one  thing,  sir. 
Her  dictatoriafiedness, 

Wolff.  Show  her  up,  Charles,  and  don't  say  a  word 
to  anyone.     I'll  take  all  the  responsibility. 

Chaeles.    Yes,  sir.     (exit) 

(Wolff  closes  door  behind  him,  looking  round  he  espies 
a  hand  mirror  on  a  side  table,  puts  it  on  table  r.  c.  in  a 
prominent  position,  giving  a  glance  in  it  to  his  own 
appearance  as  he  crosses  with  it.  Then  he  retires  to 
windoio,  where  he  stands  looking  out  in  such  a  posU 
tion  that  the  curtain  hides  him) 

{enter  Miss  Hobbs  shown  in  hy  Chables,  who  retires 
closing  the  door.  She  is  a  charmifig  young  woman 
most  daintily  dressed.  She  has  the  ma7iner  of  an  ex- 
ceptionally important  and  "busy  Princess.  She  crosses 
and  sits  l.  of  table  b.  c.  Glancing  round  the  room  and 
seeing  no  one  she  takes  up  the  glass  and  arranges 
her  hat.  Wolff  comes  from  his  corner  and  stands 
watching  her.  Turning  the  glass  to  get  a  better  light 
she  sees  his  face  in  it — highly  indignant,  she  puts  the 
glass  back  on  the  table,  letting  fall — unnoticed  by 
herself — her  handkerchief  which  was  in  her  hand. 
Wolff  comes  down  and  stands  regarding  her  with 
composure.     She   sits   very  stiffly   and   does   not  look   at 

him.) 

Wolff,     (c.)     It  isn't  straight  now. 

Miss  H.  (seated  l.  of  table)  Thank  you,  I  prefer 
It  not  straight. 

Wolff,  (throiolng  his  cigar  away  into  fireplace  i») 
Shows  an  unbalanced  mind. 

Miss  H.     Sorry  I  can't  please  you. 

Wolff.  I  don't  say  you  can't.  You  haven't  trSed 
y«t. 

Miss  H.    I  certainly  don't  intend  to. 


20  BUSS  HOBBS. 

Wolff.    Oh  yes,  you  will. 

1/iss    H.     You  think  so? 

Vv'oLFF.  I'm  sure  of  it.  We  all  follow  our  natural 
Instincts,  whettier  we  admit  it  to  ourselves  or  not 
The  natural  instinct    of  woman  is  to  please  man. 

Miss  H.     Evidently  I  am  not  a  natural  woman, 

Wolff.  On  the  contrary,  I  should  say  you  were  ono 
©1  the  most  ordinary  type. 

(Miss  H.  makes  a  movement  of  impatience) 

To  test  you,   I   carefully  placed  that  looking  glass  on 
the  table. 

Miss  H.  (springing  up)  Then  it  was  a  piece  of 
gross  ins  pertinence,  showing  a  mean-spirited  mind, 
(crosses  to  him  l.  c.)  You  take  an  interest  in  me 
which  is  quits  uncalled  for. 

Wolff,  (c,  has  taken  the  opportunity  to  piclc  up  her 
nandker chief  unnoticed)  I  can't  help  it— the  mere  slant 
of  your  hat. 

Miss  H.  {darts  to  talle  i.  c.  and  snatching  up  glass, 
looks  into  it)  It's  not  on  the  slant,  it's  perfectly 
Btraif^ht. 

Wolff,  (while  her  hack  is  turned  to  him  looks  at 
name  Qn  handkerchief)  You  said  just  now  that  you 
preferred  it  not  straight. 

Miss  H.  (r.  c.)  stands  a  moment  regarding  him, 
hardly  knowing  whether  to  laugh  at  his  cool  imperti- 
nence or   to    he    more    angry   still)      If   you    please,    who 

ftre  you? 

Wolff,     (c.)     Oh,  a  traveller. 

Miss   H.     What   in? 

WcLiF.  (smiling)  Do  I  suggest  that  kind  of  trav- 
eller? 

Miss  H.  No,  you  don't  In  the  mere  way  of  business 
you  would  bave  acquired  better  manners.  You  sug- 
gest rather  the  gentleman  who  has  called  to  tune  the 
olaLno. 

Wolff.  An  honourable  and  useful  calling.  Y'ou  see, 
we  are  beginning  to  take  an  interest  in  each  other 
already. 

(Miss  H.  makes  another  movement  of  impatience) 

Now  you,  I  should  judge,  to  be  a  schoolmistress.  Yoa 
have  just  the  nanner. 

Mtss   H.     Nothing  so  Intellectual. 

Wolff.    A  typewriter?     I  can  imagine  you  rapping 


MISS  HOBBS.  21 

out  the  word  "love"   (imitating)     B — O — S — H! 

Miss  H.     Nothing  so  useful. 

Wolff.  You  are  too  well  dressed  for  a  servant — a 
lady's  maid? 

Miss  H.      Possibly! 

Wolff.  Umph!  Well,  there's  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of  in  being  a  lady's  maid,  though  I  pity  the  lady. 
Which  is  your  evening  out? 

Miss  H.     I  keep  it  for  my  friends. 

Wolff.  I  want  you  to  keep  the  next  one  for  me. 
You  know  I  like  you — 

Miss  H.     Indeed? 

Wolff.    In  spite  of  your  faults. 

(enter  Charles  with  letter  on  tray  l.) 

Miss  H.  (turning  to  him)  Hare  you  got  that  parcel 
ready?  (as  he  stops  to  speak  to  her  she  sees  letter  and 
reads  name) 

Charles.  (crosses  down  between  Miss  H.  and 
Wolff)  The  maid  is  getting  it  ready  for  you,  Miss — 
A  letter  for  you,  sir.  (crosses  to  Wolff,  who  has 
crossed  to  l.  o.) 

Miss  H.  (aside)  Kingsearl!  Beula's  husband! 
The  callous  brute!     I'll  teach  him  a  lesson. 

Wolff,  (l.  has  opened  and  read  letter)  Oh,  tell  the 
man  to  come  to  me  at  the  Hotel  in  half  an  hour,  (putt 
letter  in  his  pocket) 

Charles.     Yes,  sir.     (exit) 

Miss  H.    Instructions  about  the  piano  ? 

Wolff,  (c.  puzzled  at  first,  then  recollecting)  Ah, 
yes,  another  appointment.  We're  so  very  busy,  our 
firm  just  now.    Well,  about  that  evening  out? 

Miss  H.  (b.  c.)  I've  been  thinking  about  it.  You 
see,  I  haven't  known  you  very  long. 

Wolff.  All  the  more  reason  for  haste  now.  Think 
of  the  time  you've  wasted. 

Miss  H.  (trying  to  adopt  a  servant's  tone  and  man- 
ner) Yes,  but  a  girl  must  be  very  careful.  I  should 
not  like  to  walk  out  with  you  till  I've  seen  more  of  you. 

Wolff.  You  shall  see  as  much  of  me  as  ever  yoa 
want  to. 

(Miss  H.'s  expression  says  *' Possibly  more"*) 

The   only   question    is   how? 

Miss  H.     Well.   Missus   will  be  out  to-morrow  aftei»« 


22  MISS  HOBBS. 

noon,  and  I  was  thinking  that  if  you  could  come  tfr  ova 
house — 

Wolff.     Yes. 

Miss  H.    To  tune  the  piano — 

(Wolff's  face  falls) 

It  would  be  so  simple.  I  could  be  in  the  drawing 
room,  and  then  if  anything  did  happen— why— why,  you 
could  be  tuning  the  piano.  That  would  account  for 
you. 

Wolff.     (douMful)       Yes,— but 

>ns3  H.     Isn't  it  a  grand  idea? 

Wolff.  Yes,  yes,  the  idea's  all  right.  I  was  think- 
Srp-,-  of  the  piano.     Is  it  a  good  piano? 

Miss  H.    Oh  yes!     it's  an  excellent  piano. 

Wolff.  Um!  You  see  those  expensive  pianos  won't 
Btand  much  tuning,  {cheers  up)  But  perhaps  nothing 
will  happen.    Anyhow,  I'll  be  there.    What  time? 

Miss  H.  If  you  could  come  at  half  past  three — I 
would  open  the  door  to  you  myself. 

Wolff.     I'll  be  on  the  doorstep  at  3:30  to  the  second. 

(snter  Charles  l.  with  large  hrown  paper  parcel) 

Chasles.     Here  are  the  things,  Miss. 

Miss  H.  (falling  back  into  her  natural  tones)  Oh, 
thank  you,  take  them  downstairs  for  me,  will  you? 

Charles.     Certainly.  Miss,    {exit  l.) 

Miss  H.     {going  up  l.  c.)     You  won't  disappoint  me? 

Woiff.  {crosses  to  R.  c,  as  she  goes  up  looks  at  her 
queerly)  No.  You  might  tell  me  the  house  while  you 
are  about  it. 

Miss  H.  {up  L.  c.)  Oh,  I  had  forgotten.  It's  in  the 
Prospect  Avenue,  the  last  house  on  the  left,  the  house 
wilh   the  turret. 

W^olff.  (r.  c.)  I'll  find  it.  Half  past  three  to-mor- 
row.    I  don't  know  your  name. 

Miss  H.  I  will  tell  it  to  you  to-morrow.  Good  bye. 
{exit) 

Wolff,  {taking  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and 
reads  name)  Good  bye.  "  H.  Hobbs  "  what  a  name, 
it's  time  she  changed  it.  Now,  is  she  merely  flighty,  or 
l8  she  playing  me  some  trick,  I  wonder.  Well,  anyway. 
She's  charming. 

(fnter   Pebc.  and  Jessop  l.,  Perc.   crosses  down  l,  o« 
Jessop  down  b.  a) 


MISS  HOBBS. 


23 


Pebc.    Afraid  we've  kept  you  waiting  rather  a  long 
time. 

Wolff,     (c.)     Oh,  I  can  generally  amuse  myself.   I've 
been  thinking  about  that  bet. 

Fznc.     What  bet? 

V/OLFF.       That    I    don't   kiss  Miss   Henrietta   Hobba. 
May  I  order  the  dinner  myself  to  suit  my  liver? 

Pebc.     Are  you  serious? 

WoLFP.     Quite. 

Pebc.     I  think  you'll  be  sorry. 

Wolff.     Very  possibly.    But  that's  my  affair.     Is  the 
bet  still  on? 

Perc.     Why,   certainly,   and    I   hope   I   lose. 

Jessop.     (b.   c.)     You're    a    well    plucked    one,    Mr. 
Kingsearl;    I  do  admire  you. 

^  Wolff,  (c.)  Thanks,  (writing  in  his  betting  hook) 
"Bet  Percival  Kingsearl  dinner  at  Delmonico's  for  three 
that  I  kiss  Miss  Henrietta  Hobbs  within  "  —six  months, 
too  long  for  an  assault,  too  short  for  a  siege.  We'll 
say  a  month. (  writes)     What's  the  date? 

J::ssop.     June  6th— Newmarket  Spring  Meeting. 

V/oLFF.     {writes)     June  6th,  1899.     {puts  away  booJi) 
Ready? 

Perc.     (l.  c.)     I'm  jolly  hungry. 

ithe  three  men  take  their  hats  and  start) 
CURTAIN. 


ACT  II. 

Scene.— Drowiwsr  room  at  the  Mill  House,  furnished 
lightly  and  daintily.  Three  French  windows  at  back 
oven  on  to  verandah— beyond  garden  and  ^ea.  A 
piano  stands  b.  Table  l.  c. — behind  easy  chair  r.  c. 
stands  a  Urjht  screen  hiding  it  from  the  vjiyidows] 
A  settee  stands  l.  of  table — a  large  einht-day  clock 
which  chimes  hours  and  half  hours  stands  u  Doors 
L.  and  8. 

Ti  ME. — Aftebnooi^. 

•(Miss  Hobbs,  Beula  and  Miss  Farey  discovered  seated. 
Miss  H.  L.  at  table  l.  is  writing.  Miss  F.  on  piano 
stool  is  reading— Bevla  b.  c.  in  arm  choir  in  front  of 
screen  with  open  book  on  her  lap  is  locking  towards 


24  MISS  HOBBS. 

the  windoto.  A  few  seconds  pass  before  anyone  speaxs 
the  only  sound  heing  the  scratch  of  Miss  H.'s  pen — 
then  Beula  yawns  audibly) 

Miss  H.     (still  writing)     What  are  you  reading? 

Beula.  Mel  I  don't  know,  {looks  at  cover)  Oh, 
•*  The  Tragedy  of  a  Soul" 

Miss  H.     I  haven't  read  that  one  yet.     Is  it  jjcod? 

Beula.  Oh,  1  expect  you'll  like  it.  It's  all  about  a 
woman  who  might  have  done  something  wonderful  if 
she  hadn't  married  a  solicitor  who  crushed  her. 

Miss  H.  It's  a  common  enough  tragedy.  A  woman 
buries  all  that  is  best  in  her  under  the  marriage  altar. 

Miss  F.  (looking  up)  But  if  every  woman  thought 
that? 

Miss  H.    Every  woman  knows  it — who  thinks. 

Miss  F.  Yes.  But  if  they  acted  on  it  and  nobody 
ever  married,  what  would — you  know  what  I  mean,  dear 
—wouldn't  it  be  rather  awkward? 

Miss  H.  There  will  always  be  simpletons  enough  to 
people  the  world.  Chimneys  have  to  be  swept,  but  we 
need  not  all  be  sweeps.  It's  the  empty-headed  women 
that  make  the  best  wives.  The  woman  of  brains  has 
other  work. 

Beula.  (b.  c.)  One  can  find  some  precious  silly  old 
maids. 

Miss  H.  Yes,  the  poor  women  who  were  born  to  be 
married— who  are  fit  for  nothing  else,  your  man  passes 
by.  There's  no  "sport"  in  snaring  them.  It's  the 
woman  of  mind — the  woman  who  was  meant  for  higher 
things  that  he  loves  to  drag  down  and  cage. 

Beula.  {rising  and  walking  to  window  c.)  Oh,  I'm 
BO  tired  of  the  wickedness  of  man. 

Miss  H.    The  world  is  beginning  to  be  tired  of  it — 

at  last. 

Miss  F.    Do  you  really  think  they  are  so  very  bad? 

Miss  H.  My  dear  child,  what  do  you  see  around  you! 
"What  do  you  read?  Every  book  you  take  up  {laving 
her  hand  on  a  novel  that  is  beside  her  on  the  taole) 
Do  vou  think  these  women  imagine  the  men  they  draw? 
They  have  lived  with  them— suffered  from  them 

Miss  F.     But  perhaps  they  can't  help  being  bad 

Miss  H.     That's  another  question. 

Miss  F.  Then  oughtn't  we  to  l»  sorry  lor  them 
rather  to  try  and  help  them? 

Mips  H.  Many  a  woman  has  said  that  to  her  ruin. 
The  tiger  cannot  help  his  nature,  would  you  take  him 
Into  your  arms  to  try  and  improve  him? 


MISS  HOBBS.  25 

Miss  F.  Xwith  a  laugh)  But  if  they  are  tigers,  we 
must  be  tigrerses. 

Miss  H.     Men  and  women  are  dilierently  constitutea. 

Beula.  *  (turning  from  the  window  through  vjhich  she 
has  'been  gazing,  comes  doivn  c.)  Oh,  come,  Hetty, 
that's  all  nonsense.  We're  not  saints— I  know  I'm  not. 
They've  got  something  to  put  up  wiLn  too. 

Miss  H.  (l.  c.)  I  don't  say  we're  saints.  Heaven 
knows  we  have  our  faults.     But   they  are  not   men's 

faults.  ^     ^  ^        A 

Be'Jl\  (c.)  Well  perhaps  they  are  just  as  pleased 
with  themselves  that  they  haven't  ours.  I  think  men 
very  nice,  take  'em  on  the  whole.  It's  jolly  dull  without 
'em. 

Miss  H.    You've  small  occasion  to  defend  them. 

Beula.  Oh,  as  much  as  anyone.  Percy  would  be  an 
awfully  good  fellow  if  I  did  not  always  rub  him  up  tha 
wrong  wav.  You  read  these  silly  books  and  think  all 
men  are  bad.  I  don't  believe  they  are  any  worse  than 
we   are. 

Miss  H.  I  don't  take  my  views  only  from  books,  I 
observe.  And  I  don't  say  all  men  are  bad.  I  can 
Imaeine  the  ideal  man,  strong,  noble,  tender  and  true. 
I  can  quite  believe  marriage  with  such  a  one  v/oiild 
elevate,  not  degrade.  But  your  husband,  Beula,  is  not 
the  ideal  man. 

Beula.     (hotly)     You've  no  right  to  say  that.     \ou 

don't  know  him.  ,»    ,     ,  ^     ,      -^ 

Miss  H.  (rises  quickly)  Don't  I?  I— (checks  her- 
self) 

Beula.  No,  you  don't.  You  only  know  what  I've 
told  you  when  I've  been  in  one  of  my  silly  tempers. 
He's  the  best  husband  in  the  world.  His  only  fault  is, 
he  puts  up  with  too  much  of  my  nonsense.  I'm  a 
little  cat.  Before  I've  lived  here  long  you'll  find  out 
what  a  nasty,  disagreeable  little  beast  I  am,  and  then 
you  will  know  how  good  and  patient  he  must  have  been. 
Don't  you  dare  say  a  word  against  him. 

(exit  B.  crying) 

Miss  H.  (has  risen)  Poor  child!  She  still  cares 
for  him.  Ah  well,  she  shall  know  him  better  before 
many  hours  are  gone. 

(MissF.  has  also  risen  and  comes  to  c.) 
See  that  she  is  not  left  alone.       I'm  just    going    i^ 


26  MISS  HOBBS. 

Btairs  to  change,     {looking  at  Tier  watch)     I  daresay 
she  is  feeling  sore.    Women  are  so  weak. 

{exit  L.) 

MiS8  F.  {goes  towards  window)  I  agree  with  Beula. 
I  don't  believe  men  are  so  bad.  Anyhow  they — {see- 
ing Miss  Abbey  crouching  on  the  verandah,  she  gives 
a  little  cry.) 

(Miss  A.    appears  at  the  open  window  c.) 

Miss  A.  Hush!  (puts  her  head  in  and  looks  round) 
IWhere  is  the  dragon? 

Miss   F.     (c.)     Miss   Hobbs? 

Miss  A.     Whom  else  should  T  mean?     Is  she  out? 

Miss  F.     She's  just  gone  upstairs  to  change  her  dress. 

Miss  A.  How  long  does  she  take?  The  average 
time? 

Miss  F.      Yes — about 

Miss  A.  That's  all  right,  {comes  in — down  o.) 
Where's   Beula? 

Miss  F.  (e.  o.)  She's  in  her  room.  You've  torn 
your   dress. 

Miss  A.  Climbing  over  the  fence.  The  gate  was 
locked  and  I  didn't  want  to  ring  the  bell.      How  is  she? 

Miss  F.     Oh,  all  right. 

Miss  A.  (c.)  Umph!  I'd  think  better  of  her  if  she 
had  a  violent  headache  and  was  crying  her  eyes  out. 
How  are  you?     Got  everything  you  want — now? 

Miss  F.     (e.  c.)     Yes — oh, — yes. 

Miss  A.    Perfectly  sure — there's  nothing  you  miss? 

Miss   F.     No — why? 

Miss  A.  Oh,  nothing.  Only  there's  something  of 
yours  walking  up  and  down  on  the  other  side  of  that 
fence 

(Miss  F.  gives  a  start,  and  a  flush  of  pleasure  cornea 
into  her  face) 

and    if    you    care    to    wave    your    handkerchief    three 
times  out  of  that  window   you  can   have   it. 

XMiss  F.  gives  a  swift  glance  round  the  room,  then 
runs  to  the  window  and  waves — then  runs  hack  down 
L.  c.  and  seems  frightened) 

Miss  F.  Oh,  I  wish  I  hadn't  done  it.  I  shan't  knon 
Srhat  to  say  to  him  when 

j^enter  Jessop  through  window)^ 


MISS  HOBBS.  27 

(runs    to    meet    him    with    both    hands    outstretched) 
George! 

Jessop.     (l.  o.)     Milly!      (goes  to  kiss  her) 
Miss  P.     (l.  draws  back)     Oh,  you  must  not. 
Miss  A.     Hoity  toity — why  not? 
Miss  F.    We're  not  engaged  now. 
Jessop.     I  am.     I  haven't  broken  it  off. 
Miss  F.     But  I  have. 

Miss  A.  Well,  then  he  can  kiss  you,  but  you  mustn't 
kiss  him,  that's  all.     (turns  her  back  to  them) 

(Miss  F.  laughs) 

Jessop.    Good!     Referee's    decision,     (kisses    her) 
Miss  A.    Be  quick,  because  I've  got  another  of  them 

outside. 

Miss  F.     (laughing,  crosses  to  t.  c.  a  little)     I  don't 

want  ano — Oh,   you   mean   Mr.   Kingsearl. 

(Miss  A.  turns  round) 

Jessop.  (l.)  He's  just  outside  the  window.  Shall 
I  give  him  the  tip? 

Miss  A.     (b.  of  c,  to  Miss  F.)     Will  she  see  him? 

Miss  F.  (c,  thinks)  Yes.  (nods  her  head)  Yes,  I 
feel  sure  she  will. 

Miss  A.  But  what  will  she  say  to  him?  She  is  a  bit 
uncertain. 

Miss  F.    What  is  he  going  to  say  to  her? 
.    Miss  A.    That  he  is  very  sorry,  and  that  it  has  been 
all  his  fault.     I've  been  hammering  that  into  him  all 
the  morning. 

Miss  F.     (with  a  laugh)     Then  it  will  be  all  right. 

Jessop.     (l.  c.)     Shall  I  bring  him  in? 

Miss  F.    Yes. 

(Jessop  goes  to  window  C.  and  beckons) 

Miss  A.     (b.  c.)     Well,  I'm  going,  my  dear 
Miss  F.     (kisses  her)     Thank  you  so  much. 

(enter  Pehoival,  through  window  c.) 

Pebo.     (c)     Where   is   she? 

Miss  F.  I'll  fetch  her,  but  she  must  not  see  you  at 
first,  (to  Jessop)  You — (thinking  she  hears  some- 
thing she  runs  to  door  b.  and  listens)  It's  all  right. 
^ireturns)     You  go  in  there,     (crosses  l,,  Jessop  follow' 


28 


MISS  HOBBS. 


ing  and  opening  door  l.  looks  in,  then  returns  leaving 
door  open)  and  wait  for  me  (leaving  Ji'SSuf  i..  v/ e 
crosties  to  Perc.  c.)  and  you  wait  on  tae  verandah  out 
of  sight  till  you're  wanted,  {with  a  lauijh)  1  .shall  ouiy 
be  a  minute,  (runs  across  on  tiptoe,  exit  r.  Throughout 
SM  atmosphere  of  conspiracy  is  jtiuiuiai/ted) 

Miss  A.  (o.  to  Peec.)  Now,  remember,  it  was  all 
your  lault.  If  8he  says  it  wasn't,  contradict  her. 
Everything  has   alv/ays   been   your   fault. 

Peec.  (l.  0/  c.)  I  know,  Aunt.  It's  the  truth.  rv« 
been  a  brute. 

Miss  A.  (c.)  That's  right,  you  abuse  3'ourself. 
Leave  her  to  do  the  defending,  and  above  all,  not  a  word 
against  Miss  Hobbs. 

Pebc.    I'll  remember. 

(Miss  A.  is  going  up  c.) 

Jessop.     (l.  calls  after  her  in  a  whisper)     Miss  Air 

bey 

(she  stops  and  turns) 

There's  a  hole  in  the  fence  the  other  sloe  of  the  gate 
Miss  A.     Thank  you,  you're  a  good  soul.     That  will 
save  my  shins  a  lot.     (to  Peb.)     Mind,  Hobbs  is  made 
of  stained  glass. 

(Pebo.  nods) 

God  bless  you! 

(exit  through  ioindow  o.y 

Jessop.     (l.)     Good  old  sort,  your  aunt 
Pebc.     (up  c.)     Isn't  she? 

Jessop.  What  a  trainer  she'd  make.  Look  out! 
[{darts  through  door  l.) 

(Pebc.  darts  through  window) 

Jessop.  (nothing  happening  he  puts  his  head  out 
ngain)     False  start.    Percy! 

Pero.     (re-appearing,   crosses.)     Hulloa! 

Jessop.     Haven't  got  a  clove  about  you,  have  you 

(the  door  b.  moves — l}oth  men  dart  to  their  places,  Jes- 
sop softly  closing  the  door  after  him.  Enter  b.  Miss 
9*.  and  Beula.  talking) 


MISS  nOBBS.  29 

Beui-a.  {comes  to  l.  c.)  Let  my  mistake,  dear,  be 
a  Tv'arning  to  you.  Follow  your  otvd  heart,  that  Is  the 
only  true  councillor. 

Miss  F.  (as  she  shuts  the  door  comes  to  c.)  Yes, 
Hetty  means  well  and  all  she  says  is  very  true,  but 
she   doesn't   understand. 

Beula.     (l.  of  c.)     She  has  never  loved. 

Miss  F.     (c.)     And  that  makes  such  a  difference. 

Beula.     It  makes  all  the  difference. 

Miss  F.  (pressing  Beula's  arm,  affectionately) 
What  shall  we  do? 

Beula.  For  you,  dear,  the  course  is  plain.  Marry 
George.     He  may  not  be  clever 

Miss  F.  (hridUng  a  little)  Oh,  he's  not  stupid  at 
all.     People  fancy  he  is,  but  he  isn't. 

Beula.  Perhaps  not,  dear.  You  know  him  best. 
Anyhow  he's  good.  My  instinct  tells  me  that,  and  he 
loves  you —  (ecstatically)  and  love  is  life. 

Miss  F.    And  what  will  you  do? 

Beula.  Me!  I  shall  take  a  situation  as  a  governess, 
or  else  go  for  a  nurse.  Yes,  I  think  I  should  prefer  to 
be  a  nurse.  I  should  wish  to  devote  what  remains  of 
my  life  to  alleviating  the  sufferings  of  others. 

Miss  F.  Why  not  go  back  home  and  relieve  Percival's 
sufferings,       (with  a  little  laugh) 

Beula.     Impossible!      (crosses    a    little    to    l.    c.) 

Miss  F.     (c.)     Why? 

Beula.    He  would  never  forgive  me. 

IMiss  F.  Do  you  know  what  my  instinct  tells  me — that 
he  would—— 

Beula.     Milly!     Plave   you   seen   him 

Miss  F.    Hush!     (points  to  window) 

(Ferc.  rushes  in  down  r.   c,  throws  his  hat  on  armchair 
R.  c,  Beula  rushes  into  his  arms  and  they  embrace) 
Betula.     (rushing  to  7ii?)i)     Percy! 
Perc.     (embracing  her)     My  own! 

(Miss  F.  has  run  across  and  is  going  out  of  door  l.) 

Beula.  (l.  of  c.)  Oh,  don't  let  us  drive  you  away, 
dear. 

Miss  F.  (half  in  and  half  out  of  door  l.)  I  shall 
be  just  as  happy  in  here,  dear,  and  then  if  I  hear  Miss 
Hobbs  coming,  I  can 

(an  arm  is  thrust  out  and  lakes  her  round  the  waist  and 
draws  her  in  and  the  door  is  closed) 


30  MISS  HOBBS. 

Beula.  '(i^  of  0.  enquiringly  of  Peso.)  George  Jes- 
Bop" 

(Perc.  nods) 

The   little   puss!      (laughs — throwing   Tier   arms  round 
him  again)     Oh,  Percy,  can  you  forgive  me? 

(they  sit  on  settee  l.  c,  Perc.  on  r.  end,  Beula  on  l.  end) 

Pehc.  It  Is  you  must  forgive  me,  darling.  It  was  all 
my  fault. 

Beula.  No  dear,  all  mine.  I've  been  your  bad  little 
wife 

Perc.  (putting  his  arm  round  her)  No,  dear,  my 
best  little  v/ife — I — I  mean  the  best  little  wife  in  the 
world — and  in  future  it  shall  have  its  own  way  in  every- 
tJii*g. 

Brula..  It  doesn't  want  it.  It  only  wants  to  please 
the  handsomest,  nicest,  tiresomest  hubby  in  the  world. 
{yiestling  against  him) 

Ferc.  My  dove!  (embraces  her  again,  tut  immedi- 
ately hearing  a  slight  noise  they  spring  apart,  and  sit- 
ting at  opposite  ends  of  the  settee  in  demure  attitudes, 
listen) 

Beula.    What  was  that? 

Pebc.  (rises  and  creeps  to  window  o.)  Oh,  it's  only 
the  cat.      (returns) 

Beula.  I  was  afraid  It  was  Hetty,  (suddenly)  Per- 
cy, what  are  we  to  do  with  Miss  Hobbs?  I  dare  not 
tell  her  I  want  to  go  back. 

Peec.  (resting  himself  beside  her  and  drawing  her 
to  him)     You  do  want  to  come  bsick? 

Beula.     If  you  will  have  me. 

Perc.     I  couldn't  live  without  you    ■ 

Beula.     You  do  miss  me  then? 

Peec.     I  have  thought  of  you  every  moment. 

Beula.  So  have  I  of  you,  dear.  Did  you  eat  any 
dinner? 

Perc.    Not  a  morsel. 

Beula.  No  more  did  I.  We  will  never  be  horrid 
to  each  other  any  more,  will  we? 

Perc.     Never!      (kisses  her  on  the  forehead)     Angel! 

Beula.  We  will  be  all  in  all  to  one  another.  Noth- 
ing shall  ever  come  between  us  again.    We 

(enter  Miss  F.  arid  Jessop  in  full  flight) 

Miss  F.     icrosses  to  icindow)     Miss  Hobbs! 


JIISS  HOBBS.  31 

,jESSOP  up  to  window  c,  Beula  and  Perc.  spring  up) 

Beuxa.     (l.  c.)     Oh,  Percy,  nnist  you  ?o? 
Pebc.   (b.  of  Tier)     Yes,  but  we've  settled  Dothmg. 
Miss  F.     (up  c.)     Be  quick! 

Beula.     (£7oin^  up  to  him)     To-morrow— same  time. 
{the  lustles  him  off  c.) 
Jessop.     (to  Pebc.)     Stretch  yourself! 

(the  two  men  fly  through  window  and  disappear— 'Punc. 
has  left  his  hat  on  chair  b.  c— Beula  ej.Us  door  a. 
as  Miss  Hobbs  enters  l.  She  is  dressed  for  her  part 
in  a  dainty  French  cap  and  apron—she  is  just  in 
time  to  see  Beula's  flying  sicirts.    Miss  F.  is  up  c.) 

Miss  H.  (crossing  to  b.  c.)  Whatever  is  the  matter 
with  Beula  to-day.  She  does  nothing  but— (sees  hat 
on  armchair— awful  pause— then  she  takes  it  up) 
What's  this?     (crosses  to  c.)  ,      ,        •         ^ 

Miss  F.     (comes  down  i.  c.  frightened— she  gives  a 
nervous  little  laugh)     It— it's  a  hat 
Miss  H.     (l.  of  c.)     Whose? 
Miss   F.     I— I   don't  know. 

Miss  H.  Millicent,  you  do  know.  Its  his  hc.t— her 
husband's    He  has  been  here,  the  wretch! 

Miss  F.     (relieved  that  it  isn't  Jessop's  hat  pluc^cs  vp 
courage)     Well,  I  really  can't  see  that  that  was  v.  roag 
of  him,     I  respect  him  for  wanting  to  get  her  back. 
Miss  H.     The  hypocrite! 

Miss  F.  Ah,  you're  too  hard  on  him.  He  may  have 
behaved  badly,  but  he's  very  sorry 

Miss  H.  (l.  of  c.  coniemptouslv)  Sorry?  {hangs 
the  hat  down  on  taUe  l.  c.)  Millicent,  we  must  save 
her  from  him.  He  isn't  fit  to  be  the  husband  of  a  Hot- 
tentot. 

Miss  F.    How  do  you  know? 

Miss  H.     I  have  seen  him— I  have  spoken  to  him. 

Miss  F.     When?  ^.       v     i..^ 

Miss  H.  Yesterday— not  half  an  hour  after  he  had 
driven  her  away  from  him,  and  he  at  once  began  to 
make  love  to  me. 

Miss    F.    To   you,    dear,    impossible! 

Miss  H.  (irritably)  It's  no  use  saying  impoEs!- 
ble"  because  he  did  it.  I  went  to  the  house  to  get 
some  of  Beula's  things,  and  was  shown  up  into  the  drav/- 
in-  room.  He  was  there.  He  didn't  know  who  I  was. 
He'  didn't  take  the  trouble  to  iuQuire.     It  was  sufficient 


33  MISS  HOBBS. 

for  him  that  I  was  something  in  petticoats  and  that  I 
had  what  he   would  call,  I  suppose,  a  pretty  face. 

Miss  F.     Wliat  did  he  do? 

Miss  H.  Well,  I  told  you,  he  made  love  to  me — in 
Lis  peculiar  way.  He  mistook  me  lor  a  servant — a  lady's 
maid— and  I  left  him  to  tliink  so.  And  then  he  asked 
me  which  was  my  evening  out. 

I.IIS3  F.  Did  you  tell  him— I  mean  are  yen  going  to 
Bee  him  again? 

Miss  H.  Yes — I  at  once  made  up  my  mind  that  it 
was  my  duty  to  let  Eeula  know  the  sort  of  man  he 
really  is.  He  is  coming  here  ihis  afternoon — now,  in  a 
few  minutes,     {looking  towards  clock)     Unless 

Miss  F.     Unless  what? 

Miss  H.  (thinking)  Ualess,  finding  that  it  is  th'i 
Tery  house  that  shelters  his  wife,  he  has  not  the  im- 
pertinence—Ah, but  there  is  no  fear  of  that.  Whatever 
might  restrain  him  it  would  not  be  lack  of  impertinence. 
He  will  come. 

Miss  F.    And  what  are  you  going  to  do? 

Miss  H.  Prove  to  Beula  his  true  character,  save  her 
from  her  own  weakness.  As  that  clock  strikes  four — 
exactly — I  want  you  to  bring  Beula  into  this  room  by 
the  verandah.     She  shall  find  him  at  my  feet- 

Miss  F.  Do  you  think,  dear,  she  will  quite  like 
that? 

Miss  H.  Does  the  hurt  child  like  the  surgeon's 
knife? 

Miss  F.    And  I'm  sure  she  won't  like  you  for  it. 

Miss  H.  One  serves  one's  friends  for  their  good — 
not  their  thanks. 

Miss  F.  I  don't  like  the  idea,  Hetty.  Candidly,  I 
don't. 

Miss  H.  Do  you  think  I  do?  Think,  Milly!  Five 
minutes  ago  he  was  here  on  his  knees  to  his  wife,  ask- 
ing her  to  come  back  to  him.  If  he  is  worthy  of  the 
least  consideration — if  it  could  mean  anything  but  life- 
long misery  to  her  to  remain  under  his  roof — could  he 
ten  minutes  afterwards  return  to  the  very  same  house 
to  make  love — flirt — carry  on — whatever  you  prefer  to 
call  it — witli  another  woman? 

Miss  F.    No — that's  true. 

Miss  H.  If  he  doesn't  come,  well  and  good.  If  he 
does! — then,  if  she  still  cares  to  be  one  of  his  playthings, 
let  her.     But  she  shall  know  what  she  is  choosing. 

Miss  F.  I  can't  understand  it.  He  alv/ays  seemed  to 
me  to  be  rather  a  nice  man — on  the  whole. 


MISS  HOB/S.  88 

Hfisg  H.  So  lie  did  to  me.  There's  the  hypocrisy  of 
the  man.  If  I  hadn't  known  vrho  be  was — 1  should  hav« 
liked  him.     He  had  a  way  with  him 

Miss  F.     You  are  sure  it  was  he 

Miss  H.  My  dear  child,  there  he  was  in  his  own  draw- 
ing-room, smoking  a  cigar.  Besides,  a  letter  came  for 
him  while  I  was  there.  I  read  the  name  on  the  (the 
clock  chimes  the  half  hour)  There's  half  past  three,  go 
now,  dear.     You  will  help  me? 

Miss.  F.  (reluctantly,  as  they  cross  r.)  Yes,  if  he 
really  is  that  sort  of  man  I  suppose  she  is  br^t^^r  with- 
oiU  him.  Anyhow,  I  will  bring  her  in  here  at  four 
o'clock. 

Miss  H.  As  the  clock  strikes,  I  shall  be  in  that  chair. 
{points  to  chair  b.  c,  behind  which  the  screen  stands) 
It's  for  her  good. 

Miss  F.     I  don't  believe  he  will  come. 

Miss  H.    Let  us  hope  he  doesn't. 

{exit  Miss  F.,  B.;  Miss  Hobbs  returns  c,  looks  at  clock 
— then  at  her  watch-" then  seeinj  the  hat,  crosses  and 
takes  it  up,  looks  for  a  hiding  place,  stoops  and  hides 
it  under  the  settee,  tohich  has  a  fringe  reaching  tQ 
the  ground.  Then  rising,  she  looks  at  the  clock  again 
— then  goes  to  window  c,  and  looks  out — seeing 
Wolff  in  garden  she  beckons  and  returns  to  c.^arrang- 
ing  her  cuffs  and  apron) 

{enter  Wolff  by  window  c,  he  carries  a  stick,  wear§ 
gloves,  but  is  without  a  hat) 

Miss  H.    Umph!     You  have  come. 

Wolff,  (b.  c,  lays  his  stick  on  piano,  down  b.)  And 
If  I  hadn't  bad  to  climb  over  a  fence  and  scramble 
through  a  laurel  hedge,  I'd  have  been  here  more  punc- 
tually.   You  might  see  to  the  gate  being  open  next  time. 

Miss  H.  (c.)  It  shall  be  wide  open  the  next  tim« 
you  come. 

V/OLFF.  (is  flicking  some  dust  off  his  clothes  with  hi9 
handkerchief)     Thanks. 

Miss  H.     (c.)     You  don't  wear  a  hat? 

Wolff.  Never — after  I  have  once  put  my  foot  through 
!t. 

Miss  H.     It  must  be  very  tiresome,  losing  one's  hat. 

Wolff.  It  is  irritating.  Particularly  when  you  re- 
flect upon  the  walk  home.  Missus  out?  (has  com- 
menced  to  take  off  his  gloves) 

Miss  H.    Yes — ^but  we  must  be  careful  of  accident!. 


0^  MISS  HOBBS. 

The  young  ladles  are  about.    Have  you  brought  your 

fork? 

V/oLFF.  (E.  c,  puzzled)  My  fork!  I  have  lunched. 
(remembering)  Oh,  my  tuning  fork— never  use  on*— 
do  it  all  by  ear.     {striUes  a  note)     Fine  pitch. 

Miss  H.  There's  one  note  in  particular  wants  seeing 
to,  B.  sharp. 

Wolff.    Well,  let  me  take  my  gloves  off. 

Miss  H.  I  was  referring  to  the  note,  {crosses  in 
front  to  R.  c.  of  him  and  strikes  the  note)  Can't  you 
hear,  it's  all  wrong. 

Wolff,     (e.  c.)     What's  the  matter  with  it? 

Miss  H.  {returning  to  L.  c.)  If  you  take  the  piano 
to  pieces  you'll  find  out. 

Wolff,  (c.)  I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  You  can 
take  a  piano  to  pieces,  and  then  wish  you  hadn't.  Don't 
you  fuss  so  much  about  this  piano.  I  haven't  come  to 
play  the  piano.  _        ,^     ^ 

Miss  H.    Yes,  but  I  was  thinking  of  accidents. 

Wolff.  So  am  I.  There  will  be  less  chance  of  one 
If  I  leave  the  thing  alone.    I  shall  only  make  a  noise. 

Miss  H.    But  suppose  one  of  the  young  ladies  comes 

In? 
Wolff.    Don't  you  worry.    1*11  explain  things  to  the 

young  ladies. 

Miss  H.  {t.,  of  c.)  I  think  you'd  find  It  difficult, 
Beula--(sfte  lays  stress  on  the  name)  especially  is  very 
inquisitive.  You  don't  happen  to  know  the  young  lady 
i  mean,  do  you?  {she  watches  him  narrowly) 

Wolff,  (c,  quite  undisturbed)  Haven't  the  fainttFt 
Acquaintanceship  with  her. 

Miss  H.  Mrs.  Beula  Kingsearl.  {with  still  more 
stress)  I  thought  you  might  have  been  there  to  tune 
the  piano. 

Wolff.  Never  met  her  in  my  life,  {looks  her 
Btraight  in  the  face) 

Miss  H.  {turning  away  with  indignation;  aside)  Ah 
-—the  man  must  have  practised  for  years. 

Wolff,  {crosses  over  to  r.  c,  lays  his  gloves  beside 
stick  on  piano)  I  know  her  husband.  Percival  Kings- 
earl. 

Miss  H.  (o.)  Oh,  you  do  know  somebody.  Tell  me, 
what  he's  like. 

Wolff.     Oh,  a  very  nice  fellow  indeed. 

Mzss  H.  I  have  been  told  he  is  a  most  objectionable 
lean. 

WoiJ^r.     {crosses  back  to  c.)     Must  have  been  an  idiot 


MIRS  H^'V»S.  85 

who  told  you.  One  of  the  fcrst  fellows  In  the  -world— 
a  bit  of  an  ass. 

Miss  H.     Oh,  you  think  liim  an  ass. 

Wolff.  In  some  things.  He'll  grow  wiser  as  he  gets 
older. 

Miss  H.    You  are  candid. 

Wolff.  One  c^enerally  is — about  one's  friends.  And 
now  may  I  ask  you  a  question? 

Miss  H.     Certainly. 

Wolff.     Is  this  a  private  lunatic  asylum? 

(Miss  H.  is  speechless  for  a  moment  with  indignation)' 

Don't  answer  if  you  don't  like. 

jMiss  H.  (L.  c.)  "Vvho  told  you  so?  Your  friend,  Mr. 
KiiTTsearl? 

Wolff.     Never  mind  who  told  me,  is  it? 

Miss  H.     {sits  in  chair,  r.  of  table  l.  c.)     Xo,  it  is  not. 

Wolff.     Dear  me,  what  stories  people  do  put  about. 

Miss  H.  Don't  they.  Perhaps  they  told  you  I  was  a 
lunatic. 

V.^'oLFF.  You!  No,  the  servant  wouldn't  be  mad.  But 
I  was  told  your  mistress,  Miss  Hobbs 

Miss  H.  {interrupting)  Oh!  So  you've  learnt  who 
my  mistress  is.    And  what  do  they  say  about  hei,  pray? 

Wolff.  That — but  it's  nothing  to  do  with  you  or  me. 
(crosses  'back  to  table  l.  c.  and  leans  over  back  of  settee) 
Let's  talk  about  ourselves. 

Miss  H.  (seated)  Oh,  I  should  like  to  hear  it.  Was 
it  very  abusive? 

Wolff,  (over  back  of  settee  l.  c.)  No,  it's  rather  pa- 
thetic. I  was  told  that  once — she  was  a  beautiful 
girl 

Miss  H.    Oh,  did  they  say  how  long  ago? 

Wolff.  No,  they  didn't  mention  the  date.  But  at 
tv/enty — or  thereabouts  (he  is  looking  critically  at  her) 
she  fell  desperately  in  love. 

Miss  H.     (inwardly  fuming)     Oh,  did  she  ? 

Wolff.     It  was  an  unfortunate  affair. 

Miss  H.     So  it  seems. 

Wolff.  The  young  man  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  her. 

Miss  H.     Kcw  very  unfortunate.    What  happened? 

Wolff,  (sliruos  his  shoulders)  It  completely  turned 
the  poor  woman's  brain.     Sad  story,  isn't  it? 

Miss  H.  (rises,  crosses  to  r.  c,  then  back  to  c.  again) 
Duly  like  most  interesting  stories,  it  happens  not  to  be 
nue.    Vv^ill  you  kindly  tell  your  friend— (i^ir/i  gathering 


36  MISS  HOBBS. 

indignation  she  approaches  him)  Mr.  Perclval  Kings* 
earl 

Wolff.  Don't  be  indignant  with  me.  I'm  not  Mr, 
Percival  Kingsearl. 

Miss  H.  When  next  you  meet  him,  tell  him  that  MisS 
Hobbs  has  all  her  wits  about  her,  and  intends  to  ase 
them.     You  won't  forget? 

Wolff.  "  Miss  Hobbs  has  all  her  wits  about  her." 
I'll  endeavour  to  remember  It.  (is  l.,  leaning  over  hack 
of  settee  and  regards  her)  You  know  I  respect  you  for 
Btanding  up  for  Miss  Hobbs.  {coming  hack  of  table 
to  c.)    You're  a  good  girl. 

Miss  H.     (standing  b.  c,  freezingly)    Thank  you. 

Wolff,  (o.)  And  now  don't  you  think  it  time  wa 
talked  about  ourselves? 

Miss  H.  (b.  c.)  Oh,  as  you — (looks  at  clock — under 
her  treath)  Good  gracious!  five  minutes  to  four. 
(aloud)  No,  I  think  it  is  time  we  left  off  talking  and— 
(hesitates) 

Wolff.     And  what? 

Miss  H.  (with  calm  seriousness)  Will  you  answer 
me  the  truth? 

Wolff.  It's  not  a  commodity  too  often  exchanged  be- 
tween a  man  and  woman.  But  if  it  be  possible  you  shall 
have  it. 

Miss  H.    What  have  you  come  here  for? 

Wolff.     What  for? 

Miss  H.  Have  you  come  here  to  make  love  to  me,  or 
have  you  not? 

:(Wolff  staggers  tack  l.  c.  against  tahle  in  astonisTi- 
ment,  the  table  saves  him  from  falling) 

—  the  truth! 

Wolff.    Well,  if  you  put  It  that  way 

Miss  H.    I  do  put  it  that  way. 

Wolff.  I  confess  I  thought  it  not  impossible  we 
irjght  drift  in  that  direction. 

Miss  H.  Thank  you,  that  is  all  I  wanted  to  know. 
Then,  if  you  are  ready,  we  will  commence,  (sits  in  easy 
chair  R.  c.) 

Wolff,  (still  struggling  icith  his  astonishment)  You 
don't  think  it  too  early  to  begin? 

Miss  H.  I  think  it  will  soon  be  too  late.  Please  be 
quick,     (her  manner  is  that  of  a  martyr  to  duty) 

Wolff,  (aside)  Percival  Is  right.  I  don't  know  tlie 
mew  woman,     (aloud)     What  shall  I  do? 

Miss  H.    Don't  you  know? 


MISS  HOBBS.  87 

Wolff.  I  thought  I  did,  but  my  Ideas  appear  to  ba 
OJd-fashioned. 

Miss  H.  Well,  I  think, — I've  generally  heard — that 
gentlemen  go  down  on  their  knees 

Tv'OLFF.  (approaches)  Oh,  all  right.  It  isn't  my 
method,  but  you  seem  to  have  your  ovvrn  programme. 
(kneels  r.  of  he,)     Like  this? 

Miss  H.  (seated  in  armchair  in  front  of  screen)  You 
might  be  a  little  nearer. 

(He  draws  nearer) 

You  are  sure  you  want  to  make  love  to  me?     I'm  not 

persuading  you  against  your  better  feelings? 

Wolff.  Not  in  the  least.  I'm  quite  willing.  I'd  hav» 
preferred  doing  it  in  my  own  way,  but  I  daresay  you 
know  best.    What  do  I  do  next? 

Miss  H.  (sarcastically)  Umph!  You  don't  seem  to 
have  had  much  experience. 

Wolff.     I  haven't — of  this  sort. 

Miss  H.  I  thought  not.  (looks  at  clock)  You  take 
my  hand,     (flings  it  out  to  him) 

Wolff.  Oh!  (takes  it)  But,  I  say,  you  know,  if  we 
go  on  at  this  rate  there  will  be  nothing  whatever  left 
for  next  week. 

Miss  H.    We  may  not  be  here  next  week. 

Wolff.  If  we  are,  we  shall  be  stone-broke.  What  do 
I  do  with  It? 

Miss  H.  Oh,  haven't  you  any  ideas  of  your  own? 
You  look  at  it  I  suppose,  (she  again  looks  away  from 
him  towards  clock  and  then  towards  verandah  l.) 

Wolff,     (noticing  her  worry)     What's  the  matter? 

Miss  H.    Oh,  nothing,     (is  excited  and  anxio^ls) 

Wolff.     Afraid  of  somebody  coming? 

Miss  H.    No — not  in  the  least  afraid. 

Wolff.  I  thought  you  seemed  anxious.  It's  a  pretty 
hand. 

(Clock  begins  to  tremble  on  the  strike) 

Miss  H.  The  other  one  is  just  as  pretty,  (gives  him 
"her  L.  hand  and  looks  out  l.) 

(The  screen  is  of  a  height  that  she,  sitting,  can  see  over 
it;  or  it  is  so  arranged  that  she  can  see  round  it  while 
from  Wolff  it  hides  everything.) 

(sees  or  hears  the  flutter  of  the  girls'  dresses)    You  caa 
k?3s  them  if  you  like. 


38  MISS  HOBBS. 

{Enter  Miss  F.  and  Beula  from  verandah  l.  to  c.  They 
come  forward — Miss  F.  b.,  and  Bella  l.,  but  so  that 
Wolff  does  not  see  them  till  the  proper  time.  He  is 
on  the  point  of  kissing  Miss  H.'s  hands  ichen,  hearing 
\he  noise  of  Miss  F.'s  entry^  he  releases  them  and  it 
about  to  rise.) 

Oh,  pray  do  not  rise. 

(Beula  now  advances  l.  c.  and  Woltf  sees  her — Misa 
H.  jumps  up.) 

(c.)     Ah,  Beula  dear,  you  are  just  in   time.     Let  me 
introduce  you  to — your  husband. 

(Wolff,  who  throughout  has  remained  entirely  Mwdi«- 
turhed,  rises  with  perfect  sangfroid.) 

Beula.     (l.)     This  gentleman  is  not  my  husband. 

Miss  H.  (stares  at  her  in  silence  for  a  moment, 
crosses  to  her  l.  c.)  I  can  understand  your  disowning 
him,  my  dear. 

Beula.    He  never  was  my  husband. 

Miss  H.  (growing  alarmed,  she  appeals  for  confLr' 
mation  to  Miss  P.)     Milly,  who  is  this  gentleman? 

Miss  F.  (r.  below  piano)  I  have  never  seen  him  be- 
fore in  my  life,  dear. 

Miss  H.  (still  unconvinced,  is  close  to  seiiee;  t^^vlng 
down,  she  brings  out  the  hat,  holds  it  out  to  Wolff) 
Will  you  oblige  me  by  putting  on  that  hat. 

Wolff,  (c,  takes  it,  puts  it  on — it  is  too  small  for 
Tiim — hands  it  back  to  her)     I  really  cannot 

Miss  H.  (l.  of  c.)  There  is  some  hideous  mistaka 
here. 

Beula     (dryly)     So  it  would  seem. 

Miss  H.    Who  are  j^ou?    Can't  you  speak? 

Wolff.  I  have  never  been  asked  the  question  yet, 
I  am  Mr.  Kingsearl. 

{The  three  women  look  at  each  other) 

Mr.  WolfE  Kingsearl. 

Beula.  (l.)  Oh,  I  know  you.  I've  often  heard  Pep» 
cival  speak  of  you. 

V/OLFF.  Your  husband  and  I  were  at  school  together. 
We  happened  to  possess  the  same  surname.  I  hope  we 
shall  come  to  know  each  other  better. 

Beula.    I  hope  so,  I'm  sure. 


TinSS  HOBBS.  Sd 

Miss  H.  Then  I've  invited  the  wrong  man  here!  To 
mals8  love  to  me! 

Yv'oLFF.  1  am  extremely  sorry.  A  long  absence  abroad 
must  excuse  my  ignorance.  I  was  unaware  that  West- 
ern ladies  cared  to  receive  attention  only  from  their 
friends'  husLandP.  I  apologise  lor  having  offered  you 
the  homage  of  a  mere  bachelor. 

{Bows  to  Miss  H.,  and  taking  his  gloves  and  stick  goet 
out  with  perfect  composure  the  way  he  came) 

{exit) 

(No  one  speaks  till  he  is  out  of  sight) 

Miss  H.  (c,  almost  in  tec.rs)  I  did  it  all  for  your 
sake,  dear.  I  wanted  to  show  you  what  sort  of  a  cian 
your  husband  was. 

Beula.  {dryly)  It  was  very  kind  of  you.  In  future 
I  will  form  my  own  opinion  of  him. 

{Exit  L.) 

Miss  H.     (c.)     You  don't  doubt  me,  IMilly? 

Miss  F.  {crosses  to  her,  c.)  No,  dear,  {kisses  her) 
But  I'm  sure  you  must  be  glad  yours'rif  you  were  mis- 
taken.    It  will  be  80  much  better  for  her. 

Miss  H.  (c.)  Yes,  but  what  about  me?  What  will 
he  think  of  me  ? 

Miss  F.     (n    of  c.)     Who?     Perceval? 

Miss  H.  No,  the  other  one.  How  he  must  despise 
me. 

Miss  F.  {meaning  to  comfort  her)  "What,  Mr.  Wolff! 
Oh,  well,  that  won't  matter,  dear.  You're  not  likely  ever 
to  see  him  again. 

Miss  H.  {still  with  tears  in  her  voice)  No,  I  sup- 
pose not  He  was  very  nice  in  his  way — so  difteient 
from  moet  men.  I'd  have  liked  him  not  to  think  so 
badly  of  me. 

(Enter  maid-servant,  l) 

Sebv.  (dov:n  l.  c. — she  has  Wolff's  'betting  "book  in 
her  hand,  v)hich  she  gives  to  Miss  H.)  Oh,  if  you 
please,  ma'am,  the  gardener  found  this  under  the  laurel 
hedge  near  the  gate.  He  thinks  some  geLtlemau  must 
have  dropped  it. 

UlUB  H.     (taking  it)     Oh.  thank  you,  Jane. 


40  MISS  HOBBS. 

{Exit  servant  r.) 

Miss  H.  {opens  and  examines  it)  Why,  it's  a  betting 
book  surely.  {turni?ig  over  leaves)  Yes— and  it  is  , his. 
(reads)  ''Wolff  Kingsearl.  Newhaven  Yacht  Uub.  1 
suppose  he  must  have— (in  idle  curiosity  is  still  turning  over 
the  leaves— finds  the  entry  of  bet— with  a  sudden  change  of 
tone)     What's  this  ? 

(Miss  F.  looks  over  her  shoulder) 

Oreads)  "June  6th.  Bet  Percival  Kingsearl  dinner 
at  Delmonlco's  for  three  that  I  kiss  Miss  Henrietta 
Hobbs  within  one  month."  So  that's  the  explanat'on. 
is  it?  (shuts  the  l)ooJc  mth  a  snap,  and  seizes  Miss 
F.'s  arm)     Milly,  will  you  come  with  me? 

Miss  F.     Yes,  dear,  but  where? 

Miss  H.    To  take  him  back  his  betting  book, 

l^She  takes  Miss  F.  by  the  arm  and  together  they  exeunt 

OftE.) 

CURTAIN. 


ACT  III. 


Scene. — CaUn  of  the  yacht  "  Good  Chance,**  which  is 
lying  at  its  moorings  in  the  mouth  of  the  river.  It 
is  a  v^(^i^f  lusiness-like  yacM,  meant  for  icork,  not 
show,  'but  it  is  comfortable,  clean  and  bright.  A  sec^ 
Hon  \s  shown,  the  portholes  at  hack,  the  compcmion- 
tocy  R.  The  roof  is  an  arched  skylight.  A  table  runs 
dcvon  the  c.  with  hanging  lamps.  Below  the  portholes 
runs  the  usual  cushioned  seat,  and  above  it  are  cup- 
boards containing  groceries — coffee,  sugar,  milk,  cvps 
end  saucers,  plates,  some  chops,  etc.  Round  the  table 
are  screw  chairs.  A  stove  provided  with  all  neces- 
sary cooking  utensils  stands  l.  In  cupboard  behind 
it  are  other  cooking  utensils,  coal,  wood,  etc.  Up 
stage  b.,  above  companion  ladder,  a  door  leads  to 
fo'c'sle. 

((Captain  Sands  discovered  b. — an  elderly,  bearded  man, 
'    c.    ■  JESSOF  L.,  in  yachting  clothes.    Both  are  smok- 
ing.) 


MISS  HOBBS.  41 

Time — Afternoon. 

Sands.  Skipper's  a  bit  late,  (stands  at  foot  of  com' 
panion  way) 

Jessop.  {seated  l.  end  of  table,  looks  at  his  watch) 
Xes.    He  said  five  o'clock. 

Sands.  Not  that  it  matters  much.  There'll  be  no 
mailing  this  afternoon. 

Jessop.  No,  there  doesn't  seem  much  wind,  does 
there? 

Saitos.  And  it  wouldn't  be  any  good  if  there  was.  It's 
tSie  fog  that'll  stop  our  little  game  to-day. 

Jessop  (rises,  goes  up  hack  l.  c,  glances  through  porthole) 
It  don't  look  very  bad. 

Sands.  ( goes  up  n.  c,  looks  out  of  porthole)  It's 
making  right  enough.  I've  been  watching  it.  In  an  hour 
— or  less — we'll  all  be  tucked  in  it  as  cosy  as  an  infant 
in  its  cot. 

(Enter  Wolff  down  companionivay — he  is   dressed   in 
yachting  costume — Sands  salutes  him — crosses  to  o.) 

Jessop.     (coming  down  l.  c.)    Hulloa,  you  are  late! 

Wolff,     (c.)     Yes,  I  am  a  little. 

Jessop.    Sands  says  we  shan't  be  able  to  sail  to-day, 

Wolff,     (to  Sands)     Oh,  not  safe? 

Sands,     (at  foot  of  ladder)    No,  sir,  not  to-day. 

Wolff.  Oh!  (goes  to  cupboard  at  back  e.,  takes  out 
writing  case,  brings  it  to  table  e.,  where  he  sits  on  chair 
at  R.  end  and  writes)  On  Tuesday,  the  wind  Yv^as  off 
land,  which  rendered  it,  in  your  judgment.  Impossible 
to  put  to  sea. 

Sands.     I  always  like  to  be  on  the  safe  side,  sir. 

Wolff.  I  am  convinced  of  it.  Sands.  Yesterday,  the 
wind  was  from  the  sea,  which,  according  to  you,  made 
any  attempt  at  sailing  still  more  hazardous. 

Sands.     You  see,  sir,  this  is  a  very  peculiar  coast— 

Wolff,  (cutting  him  short)  So  it  would  appear. 
To-dpy  v/e  will  try  the  experiment  of  moving.  I  am 
running  this  thing  as  a  yacht,  you  know,  not  a  house- 
boat. 

Sands.  You're  skipper,  sir.  If  you  like  to  put  out 
in  a  fog  you  won't  be  able  to  see  your  own  mainsail 
through,  all  right.  My  youngsters  are  all  earning  their 
own  living,  thank  God!  and  maybe  your  executors  will 
feel  it  their  duty  to  do  something  for  the  old  y/omp.v.. 

Wolff.  Umph!  Well,  we  will  wait  awhile  an.,  c^ee  il 
the  fog  does  come. 


42  MISS  HOBBS, 

Sands.    You  won't  have  to  wait  long,  sir. 
{Exit  up  compardonioay) 

Wolff.  They  are  all  alike,  those  men.  Their  Idea  of 
yachting  is  to  sit  in  a  bar  and  talk  about  the  weatlier. 
I'm  afraid  he's  right  about  the  fog,  though.  Confounded 
nuisance. 

jEssop.  (seated  l.  of  table — filling  his  pipe)  Oh, 
well,  can't  be  helped.  Had  such  a  lark  this  afternoon, 
Percival  and  I. 

Wolff.     Oh! 

jEssop.  Went  there  with  the  old  girl— his  aunt,  you 
know.  She's  a  flyer,  she  is.  Led  all  the  way,  took  the 
fence  like  a  three-year-old. 

Wolff.    What  are  you  talking  about?    Y/ent  where? 

Jessop.     Why,  to  the  Mill  House — saw  the  girls. 

Wolff.    Oh,  you  have  been  there. 

Jessop.  Rather  !  Had  a  rare  bit  of  fun.  Nearly  got 
copped,  though.     Only  just  cleared  the  verandah  in  time. 

Wolff.  Did  Percival  leave  his  hat  behind  him?  {has 
finished  and  directed  his  letter) 

Jessop.  Yes.  How  did  you  know?  Have  you  been 
tbere? 

Wolff,     (rising)     Yes. 

Jessop.     Good  man!     Did  you  see  her? 

Wolff,  (comes  down  in  front  of  tahle)  Miss  Hobbs? 
Yes. 

Jessop.    What's  she  like? 

Wolff.  What  made  you  think  she  was  old  and  a 
frump? 

Jessop.     Well,  isn't  she? 

Wolff.     No — worse  luck! 

Jessop.  Why  "worse  luck"?  I  should  have  said  good 
business.     Did  3'ou  win  your  bet  ? 

Wolff.  Damn  the  bet  !  (pause)  What  is  she  ?  Who 
is  she  ?     What  do  you  know  of  her  ? 

Jessop.  (raises  his  eyehroics)  Something.  Hr.d  it 
from  Milly  this  afternoon.  Seems  her  father  was  a  Gen- 
eral Hobbs.  He  got  scalped  by  Indians.  That  so  upset 
her  mother  that  she  died  a  few  weeks  after  she  was 
born — you  know  what  I  mean — leaving  the  kid  to  be 
brought  up  by  an  aunt  who  had  buried  two  husbands, 
both  of  'em  wrong  uns,  and  who  took  it  out  by  solng 
about,  giving  lectures  on  the  social  problem,  and  all  tliat 
sort  of  thing — seems  to  have  been  a  regular  heavy- 
weight.    Jolly  hard  lines  on  the  girl,  I  call  it. 

Wolff.    Umph!    That  should  account  for  a  great  deaL 


MISS  HOBBS.  43 

What  does  Miss  Farey  say  of  her?  They  seem  to  think 
a  lot  of  her,  those  girls.  It's  a  good  sign,  you  know, 
when  a  woman  is  a  favourite  with  her  own  sex. 

Jessop.  Oh,  Milly's  awfully  gone  on  her.  Wish  she 
wasn't.  Says  she's  an  awfully  good  sort  when  you  know 
her.  Will  do  anytbmg  for  a  woman,  but  thinks  we  are 
rats. 

Wolff,  {taking  out  and  lighting  cigar)  You  know, 
the  thing  your  women  over  here  suffer  from  is  having 
nothing  to  do  all  day  but  sit  about  and  think,  and  that's 
Just  the  way  to  think  wrong.  They  know  nothing  of  the 
world.  Work,  the  whole  explanation  of  life,  is  a  sealed 
book  to  them,  (is  walking  up  and  down)  What  they 
want  is  to  be  taken  out  of  this  doll's  house  you  call  civ- 
ilization and  made  to  face  facts.  If  I  had  that  girl  up 
in  the  Himalayas  for  six  months,  I'd  make  a  woman  of 
her,  and  a  rattling  good  woman,  (glancing  through 
port-hole)     They  don't  row  badly,  those  two  girls. 

(Jessop  jumps  up  and  goes  to  a  porthole  l.) 

Are  they  making  for  us? 

Jessop.  It  looks  like  it.  I  do  believe— yes,  I'll  swear 
that's  Milly's  back.    Who  is  the  other  one,  I  wonder? 

Wolff.  It's  uncommonly  like — yes,  by  Jove!  she  just 
turned  her  head.  It  is  Miss  Hobbs.  (.turns  away  from 
porthole) 

Jessop.  What  does  it  mean,  I  wonder?  It's  the  yacht 
they  are  making  for  right  enough,     (turns  away) 

Wolff,  (down  b.  c. — has  leen  pondering)  If  she  does 
I  will. 

Jessop.     Will  what?     (comes  down  l.  c.) 

Wolff.  Knock  some  sense  into  her.  Could  you  get 
Miss  Farey  away — keep  her  quiet  in  the  fo'c'sle  for  half 
and  hour?  It's  a  neat,  tidy  little  fo'c'sle— a  bit  cramped, 
that's  all. 

Jessop.     What's  the  game? 

Wolff.  I  want  the  girl  to  believe  that  she  and  I  are 
alone  on  this  yacht,  drifting  out  to  sea.  Providence 
means  to  help  me,  evidently.  The  fog  is  coming.  She 
won't  be  able  to  tell  whether  we  are  moving  or  whether 
we  are  not — whether  we  are  one  mile  from  the  land  or 
ten.  If  you  and  your  charming  friend  will  back  up 
Providence,  I'll  teach  Miss  Henrietta  Hobbs  more  sense 
In  half  an  hour  than  she  has  learnt  all  her  life. 

Jessop.     Well,  I'll  try. 

VvOLiF.  You  explain  to  her  that  it's  for  her  friend's 
good,  and  you  take  it  from  me  that  that's  the  trutli. 
icalU  up  ladder)    Captain  Sands! 


44  MISS  HOBBS. 

Sands,     (from  above)     Aye,  aye,  sir! 
Wolff.     She's  played  a  trick  on  me,  Til  play  a  trick 
©a  her,  and  she'll  be  glad  of  mine  later  on. 

(Enter  Sands   down  ladder) 

Sands,  does  your  constitutional  prudence  warn  you 
against  the  dangers  of  deception? 

(Sands  is  puzzled) 

Are  you  afraid  to  tell  a  lie? 

Sands,     (with  proud  candour)     No,  sir! 

Woi-FF.  (r.  c.)  That's  all  right.  There  are  two  ladies 
making  for  this  yacht. 

Sa>'ds.     Them  two  in  the  boat,  sir? 

Wolff.  Yes.  I  don't  want  them  to  know  that  I'm 
on  board.    If  they  ask  for  me,  you're  expecting  me. 

Sands,     (b.)     I  understand,  sir. 

WvOLFF.  Don't  let  them  go  away.  Tell  them  Mr.  Jes- 
sop  is  on  board  and  ask  them  dov/n  into  the  cabin. 

Sands.     I'll  fix  it,  sir.     {going) 

Wolff.  Y/ait  a  moment.  That's  not  all.  The  moment 
their  backs  are  turned,  I  want  you  to  take  their  boat — 
quietly 

(SA!8r&3  nods) 

and  fasten  it  up  in  the  bows — out  of  sight. 

Sands.     Aye,  aye! 

Wolff.  Then  get  into  your  own  boat  and  make  off; 
wait  on  the  quay  for  signals.  Is  this  fog  of  yours  a 
sure  thing? 

Sands.     It's  a-walking  to  us  with  ita  arms  spread  out. 

Wolff.     Good!     That's  all. 

(Sands    salutes   and    exits) 

Jessop.  (l.  c.)  She'll  be  jolly  wild,  if  she  learns  thp 
trick. 

Wolff.  If  you  and  Miss  Farey  don't  tell  her,  she 
never  will.  When  I  give  you  the  word,  slip  into  the  boat 
and  come  round.  She  will  think  you  have  been  rowing 
about  and  missed  your  bearings  in  the  fog. 

Miss  F.     (heard  calling)     "  Good  Chance,"  ahoy! 

(Sands  replies) 

Wolff,     (t&hispering)     Here  they  are! 
Jessop.     (also  whispering)     If  they've  come  to  see  you 
and  find  you're  not  en  board,  they'll  want  to  go  back. 


MISS  HOBBS.  45 

Wolff.  Don't  let  'em.  Tell  them  you're  expecting 
me  every  minute,     {creeps  out  by  door  e.) 

Sands,  (above)  Mr.  Jessop,  sir!  Couple  of  ladies, 
sir — want  the  skipper. 

Jessop.  (pretending  surprise)  A  couple  of  ladies! 
{goes  to  foot  of  ladder  b.)     By  Jove!  you,  Milly! 

(Enter  Miss  P.  down  ladder,  followed  by  Miss  H.) 

Miss  F.  (on  the  steps)  Mr.  Kingsearl  is  not  here. 
We  wanted  to  see  him. 

Jessop.  He  won't  be  more  than  a  few  minutes.  Come 
down. 

(They  complete  their  descent) 

Miss  P.     (c.)     My  friend.  Miss  Hobbs,  Mr.  Jessop. 
Jessop.     (l.  c.)     Delighted! 

(Miss  H.  bows  distantly) 

I'll  go  and  have  a  look  round — see  if  I  can  see  him. 
Please  sit  down,  (goes  up  back  of  table  to  b.  and  up 
ladder) 

Miss  F.  (l.  0.)  Jolly  little  cabin,  isn't  It?  Here's 
a  stove. 

Miss  H.  (b.  o.)  I'm  beginning  to  wish  we  hadn't 
come  now. 

Miss  F.    Why,  dear? 

Miss  H.  I  don't  know.  Do  you  think  it  looks  forward 
at  all,  our  coming? 

Miss  F.  No,  dear.  You  see,  you've  got  the  excuse  of 
having  come  to  return  his  book. 

Miss  H.  Yes,  but  I  don't  want  him  to  think  it's  an 
excuse. 

Miss  P.  (with  a  laugh)  It's  not  like  you,  dear,  to 
trouble  yourself  about  what  a  man  thinks  of  you. 

(Jessop  comes  half  way  down  and  beckons  to  Miss  P.) 

Miss  H.  (has  her  back  to  ladder,  does  not  see  Jessop) 
I  never  have  before.  I  don't  think  I  can  be  quite  well  to- 
day.   I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  me. 

Miss  P.  (sees  Jessop,  comes  up  to  Miss  H.)  Well, 
let  us  go.  dear.    There's  Dlenty  of  t1"n?e. 

Miss  H.  I  know  what  I'll  do.  I'll  write  him  a  letter 
(goes  to  R.  end  of  table,  draws  off  her  gloves  and  laya 
them  by  her) 


46  MISS  HOBBS. 

(Miss  F.  takes  the  opportunity  to  go  to  Jessop,  b.,  thep 
whisper  together^  unnoticed  hy  Miss  H.) 

Bimply  and  briefly  explaining  the  facts  and  enclosing 
his  book — and  leave  it  here  for  him.  That's  what  I'll 
do.  (attempts  to  draw  screw  chair  towards  her,  is  sur- 
prised for  the  moment  that  she  cannot.  8he  sits  and 
takes  paper  from  pad  or  portfolio  that  V/olff  has 
left  on  table) 

Miss  F.  (l.  of  her — comes  to  her)  You  won't  want 
me  while  you're  writing,  will  you,  dear? 

Miss  H.  (turns  in  her  chair  and  sees  Jessop  on 
9tairs)     No,  dear,  go  to  your  fate,     (sighs) 

Miss  F.  We  are  just  going  for  a  little  row.  (runs 
back  to  Jessop) 

Miss  H.  (calls  after  them)  Don't  go  far.  I  shall 
only  be  a  few  minutes. 

(Exeunt  Miss  F.  and  Jessop) 

Miss  H.  (writing)  "  Dear  sir,  I  should  be  very  sorry 
for  you  to  think" — (looks  up)  That  won't  do!  I  don't 
care  what  he  thinks.  (crumples  up  the  paper  and 
throivs  it  avjay,  begins  again)  "Dear  sir" — No,  that's 
not  cistant  enough! — we  have  never  been  i-ntroduced 
even  yet.    "  Sir  " 

(Enter  Wolff  door  r.,   he  comes  forward  and  stands 

behind  her) 

(writing  not  seeing  him)  "  Sir — you  may  think  my  con- 
duct this  afternoon  requires  explanation " 

Wolff.     Don't  you? 

Miss  H.  (pauses,  looks  round,  then  rises,  crosses  to 
L.  c.)     I  understood  you  were  not  on  board. 

Wolff,     (comes  doivn  k.  c.)     Is  that  why  you  came? 

Miss  H.  (looks  at  him  straight  and  siyeaks  seriously) 
No,  I  wanted  to  see  you.  I  have  behaved  very  badly 
to  you. 

Wolff.  Mistaking  me  for  your  friend's  husband.  I 
must  have  seemed  to  you  a  cad.  It  was  an  error  easily 
made  by  a  lady  apt,  I  should  say,  to  arrive  at  conclusions 
first  and  to  reason  afterwards.  The  person  to  be  most 
an^ry  with  you  is  not  I. 

Mtss  H.     Beula? 

Wolff.  Should,  on  the  contrary,  be  grateful  to  you — 
for  proving  to  her  that  you  are  no  safe  guide. 

Miss  H.     (moving  away  sarcastically)     It  li  kind  of 


MISS  HOBBS.  47 

yon  to  seek  to  console  me.  If  you  mean  Beula's  hus- 
band  

Wolff,  {mterrupts)  He  should  also  be  busy  biess- 
ing  you.  What  are  your  feelings  towards  yourself? 
{pause)     Was  it  womanly? 

Miss  H.  {haughtily)  It  Is  not  my  ambition  to  be 
thought  what  you  would  call  ''womanly"! 

Wolff.     Great  Scott  !    j^ou  don't  think  it  manly  ? 

Miss  H.  I  believed  my  friend  married  to  a  scamp. 
I  thought  U  my  duty  to  let  her  know. 

WoLFT.  "  Your  duty!  "  Were  you  ever  a  child?  Had 
you  ever  a  doll  you  loved? 

Miss  H.    I  fail  to  see  the  connection. 

Wolff.    Had  you? 

Miss  H.  I  daresay  I  had  the  customary  weakness  of 
my  age  and  sex. 

Wolff.  Would  you  thank  the  child  who  ripped  it 
open  to  show  you  it  was  only  sawdust?  {goes  on  quick- 
ly) Get  a  wooden  doll  if  you  can — solid  wood  throus-h- 
cut — that  you  can  bang  about — that  nothing  will  spoil 
— a  reliable  doll.  Percival  Kingsearl  is  sound  wood. 
I  knew  him  when  he  was  being  knocked  into  shape.  He 
may  not  be  a  prize  doll,  but  he's  wood — wood.  Suppose 
he  had  been  sawdust? — the  only  doll  the  child's  got,  and 
no  getting  another  when  that's  broken! 

Miss  H.  I  think  a  woman  is  better  without  the  saw- 
dust doll.  Society  and  I  differ.  The  world  regards  mar- 
riage, even  with  the  worst  of  men,  an  elevation  for  a 
woman.    I  regard  it,  even  with  the  best,  as  but 

Wolff,  {interrupting)  Excuse  me — one  moment! 
{runs  up  companion  ladder  and  disappears) 

(Miss  H.  stands  listening) 

{heard  calling)     Ahoy!     Ahoy,  there!     Jessop,  ahoy! 

Miss  H.  (b.,  goes  to  foot  of  ladder  and  listens — call- 
ing)    What's  the  matter? 

{There  is  a  noise  of  chains  being  rattled,  etc.) 

Wolff,  {from  atove)  Old  Sands  was  right  in  his 
croakings  for  once.    The  fog  is  round  us  like  a  sheet. 

Miss  H.     Where  are  the  others? 

Wolff.     Can't  see  them  anywhere,     (shonts)     Ahoy! 

Miss  H.     Can  anything  have  happened  to  them? 

Wolff.  Oh,  no,  Jessop  knows  his  v/ork.  {coming 
down)  They  are  safe  enough.  It's  ourselves  we've  got 
to  think  about 


48  MISS  HOBBS. 

Miss  H.    Why?    Is  anything  wron?? 

Wolff.  Well,  I'm  not  sure — it's  difficult  to  say  any- 
thing for  certain  in  this  fog — but  it  feels  as  though  we 
were  trailing  anchor. 

Miss  C.     (l.  c.)     What  does  that  mean? 

Wolff,     (c.)     That  we  are  drifting. 

Miss  H.    Where? 

Wolff.     Out  to  sea,  with  the  tide. 

Miss  H.     Good  gracious!     V/hat  are  we  to  do? 

AVolff.  Sit  still,  and  see  where  we  are  when  the  fog 
lifts. 

Miss  H.     But  suppose  it  doesn't  lift  all  night? 

Wolff.  See  where  we  are  in  the  morning,  (goes  on 
to  calm  Tier)  There's  no  danger.  We've  plenty  of  sea 
room,  and  nothing  will  be  coming  up.  If  the  wind 
doesn't  rise,  or  the  cable  break 

Miss  H.     And  if  it  does? 

Wolff,  (cheerfully)  Oh.  v/ell!  we  are  bound  to  get 
picked  up  in  the  course  of  a  day  or  two. 

Miss   H.     This  is  terrible. 

Wolff.  Nothing  terrible — unpleasant,  I  admit,  for 
both  of  us.  ' 

Miss  H.  You  don't  seem  to  realize  the  position  I'm 
placed  in. 

Wolff.  I  sympathise  with  you — I'm  in  the  same  my« 
eelf. 

Miss  H.    You!     It  doesn't  matter  to  you! 

Wolff.  I  beg  your  pardon,  it  does  matter  to  me. 
There  happens  to  be  a  young  lady  In  whose  very  attrac- 
tive eyes  (is  looking  at  her,  but  she  is  lookb>cf  away 
from  him)  I  wish  to  appear  all  that  is  desirable.  She 
is  a  particular  young  lady.  Do  you  think  a  day  or  two's 
voyage  w^ith  you  will  improve  my  chance? 

Miss  H.  (moves  away  l.)  I  am  very  sorry.  I  did 
not  think  of  it  in  that  light. 

Woij^F.  It  does  not  seem  to  be  your  habit  to  look  at 
things  from  anybody's  point  of  view  but  your  own. 
(cheerily)  But  perhaps  things  won't  be  so  bad.  These 
fogs  go  as  suddenly  as  they  come.  And  if  we  havan't 
drifted  far,  I  may  be  able  to  get  her  rorind  with  the  jib. 
The  thing  to  do  is  to  m.ake  the  best  of  it.  How  does  the 
Idea  of  coffee  and  chops  strike  you? 

Miss  H.  Thank  you,  I  am  rather  hungry.  I  didn't 
have  much  lunch. 

WoLFF.  (goes  to  one  of  the  cuphoards  at  tack  r.  and 
takes  out  a  plate  with  two  chops  on  it  and  a  fork)  Sea 
air  always  makes  me  feel  peckish,  (lavs  plate  o.  of 
taUe  and  looks  across  at  stove)     The  frying  pan  is  ob 


MISS  HOBBS.  49 

the  store.  The  coals  and  wood  you  will  find  In  the  locker 
just  behind  you. 

Miss  H.     {is  standing  l. — in  amazement)     I? 

WoLFT.  That's  the  iaea.  You  fry  the  chops  and  make 
the  coffee   while  I  see  to  the  yacht. 

{She  looks  at  him,  then  quietly  sits  l.,  her  haclc  to  the 
ta'ble  and  folds  her  hands) 

But  that's  not  the  way  to  do  It. 

Miss  H.  {seated  l.)  I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  do 
not  want  anything  to  eat. 

Wolf.    But  I  haven't.    I  do. 

Miss  H.  There  is  the  frying  pan.  The  coals  and 
wood  you  will  find  in  the  cupboard. 

Wolff.    You  refuse  to  do  your  share? 

Miss  H.    I  decline  to  be  your  general  servant. 

Wolff,  {sits  r.  with  his  hack  to  the  table  and  folds 
his  hands)  Very  well,  then,  fog  or  no  fog,  I  make  no 
effort  to  get  this  yacht  back  to  land.    We  drift. 

(She  turns   her  chair  and  looks   at  him) 

I  mean  it.  We  can  be  here  for  an  hour  or  a  week.  If 
I  don't  get  my  dinner— or  rather  if  you  don't  get  it  for 
me — I  don't  work! 

{8he  looks  at  him,  then  slowly  and  with  suppressed  in- 
dignation she  rises,  marches  to  the  p7a?e,  crosses  with 
it  to  the  stove,  with  a  stal)  of  the  fork  places  first  one 
and  then  the  other  of  the  chops  in  the  frying  pan. 
Wolff  rises,  crosses  a  little  to  c.) 

Miss  H.     (returns  and  places  empty  plate  on  table) 

You  use  your  position  of  power  to  force  me  to  become 
your  drudge.  And  this  Is  Nineteenth  Century  chivalry. 
Wolff.  You  want  me  to  work  for  you— to  do  the 
work  you  can't  do;  and  the  work  you  can  dch— or,  at 
all  events,  ought  to  be  able  to  do,  you  won't.  And  that 
is  the  modern  girl's  notion  of  the  whole  duty  of  v/omani 
I  am  going  to  fix  the  lamps  and  get  the  jib  ready. 

(Exit  up  ladder) 

Miss   H.     (as  soon  as   he   is   out  of  sight)     Bully? 
(goes  to  cupboard  l.  by  stove  and  in  silence  takes  out 
wood  and  paper,  and  rams  them  into  stove,  pushing 
4 


50  MISS  H0BB3. 

frying  pan  aside.  A  kettle  of  water  already  standi 
there)  I  hope  they'll  give  him  indigestion,  {lights 
fire)    I  do  hate  having  anything  to  do  with  a  stove. 

(Wolff  enters  with  ship's  lantern  in  his  hand,  going  to 
cupl)oard  l.  off  door  r.  at  hack,  he  takes  out  oil  and 
fills  lamp  at  b.,  lower  end  of  tadle.) 

Miss  H.  (is  kneeling  at  cupboard)  Do  you  possess  a 
coal  scoop  with  a  handle? 

Wolff,  (at  table  r.)  There!  I  knew  there  was  some- 
thing I  ought  to  have  got.  We  broke  it  yesterday.  I'll 
(moves  to  go  to  her  assistance,  but  at  foot  of  ladder 
checks  himself,  hooking  his  arm  round  the  ladder  rope 
as  if  to  restrain  himself  by  force  from  foUoiving  his  in- 
stinct— says  to  himself,  opening  his  mouth  but  no  sound 
issuing)     "No,  I'm  damned  if  I  do!  " 

Miss  H.  (l.  at  stove,  has  seen  him  start  and  waits  for 
him,  but  finds  he  comes  no  further)  Am  I  to  put  it  on 
with  my  hands? 

Wolff.  A  woman's  Lands  were  not  made  only  to  be 
looked  at.  (goes  and  puts  oil  back,  keeping  his  eyes 
on  her) 

(With  her  hands  Miss  H.  fills  the  broken  shovel) 

(Under  his  breath)  I  do  hope  she  doesn't  cry! 
(aloud,  taking  kettle  of  milk  from  cupboard  and  putting 
it  on  table)    Don't  forget  the  milk! 

(Exit  up  ladder) 

Miss  H.  (puts  on  coal  and  draws  frying  pan  over 
opening)  If  I  wasn't  hungry  myself  I'd  burn  them! 
(goes  to  table,  takes  milk,  puts  it  on  with  a  bang)  That 
I  should  be  cooking  a  man's  dinner  for  him!  {goes  to 
cupboard  r.,  where  she  looks  in  vain  for  coffee)  If  I 
didn't  know  it  would  please  him  I  oould  cry!  (goes 
to  foot  of  ladder  and  calls)     Mr.  Kingsearl! 

Wolff,     (above)     Yes! 

Miss  H.    There's  no  coffee. 

Wolff.  No  coffee!  (comes  down  and  goes  to  cup* 
hoard) 

(Miss  H.  comes  down  r.  c.  to  c.) 

There  was  plenty  there  yesterday.      (takes  out  a  haff 
of  lerries  and  shows  her) 


MISS  H0BB3.  51 

Miss  H.    I  thought  It  was  a  powder. 
Wolff,     (takes   out  and  hands   her  grinder)     After 
you  have  ground  i'c.    You  sit  down. 

{She  sit3  B.). 

take  It  between  your  knees 

(She  takes  it) 

fill  It  with  coffee  (pours  in  the  berries)  and  turn! 

{She  hegins  to  grind.  He  puts  the  coffee  lack  and  stand* 
B.,  watching  her) 

Miss  H.  (seated  b.)  Haven't  you  anything  to  do  up- 
stairs? 

Wolff,  (b.)  Not  for  the  moment,  (pause)  You 
ought  to  he  grateful  to  me. 

Miss  H.     (grinding)     I  can't  say  I  feel  It, 

Wolff.     One  day  you  will. 

Miss  H.  When  I  do,  I'll  let  you  know,  (she  brushes 
past  him  to  get  the  coffee  pot  out  of  cupboard  b.,  then 
hack  of  table  to  stove  l.) 

Wolff,  (b.  c.)  Suppose  you  married  a  man  who  had 
to  travel. 

(She  makes  a  gesture  of  impatience) 

You  would  find  yourself  stranded  in  places  where  you 
would  have  to  look  after  yourself.  What  would  you 
do  if  you  could  not  even  make  a  cup  of  coffee? 

Miss  H.  (at  stove  ivith  coffee  pot)  You  mean,  I  sup- 
pose, what  would  he  do? 

Wolff.  He,  in  all  probability,  would  have  ridden  50 
miles  to  get  it.  What  Is  your  objection  to  men  as  a 
cl«,ss? 

Miss  H.  (busy  at  stove)  That  they  take  advantages 
of  the  accident  of  nature,  their  superior  strength,  to 
make  woman  their  slave,     (bangs  coffee  pot  down) 

Wolff.  Have  you  never  met  the  man  slave,  the  pa-- 
tient  hack  who  grinds  in  his  office  for  sixteen  hours  • 
day  that  some  woman  who  despises  him  may  live  la 
Idleness,  surrounded  by  luxury?     I  have. 

Miss  H.    They  do  it,  I  suppose,  because  they  like  it. 

Wolff.  Because  the  woman  takes  advantage  of  the 
accident  of  nature — a  pretty  face,  a  rounded  arm,  to 
make  the  poor  fool  a  mere  machine  for  providing  her 
With  the  means  of   gratifying  her  greed  and  vanity. 


52  MISS  HOBBS. 

There  are  selfish,  brutal  men  in  the  world,  unfortunately. 
Because  of  this  will  you  shut  your  eyes  to  the  kindly 
decent  fellow— the  fathers  the  children  run  to  ?  I  have 
met  many  evil  women.  Am  I  to  forget  the  good  womaa 
one  looks  for  and  finds  wherever  is  needed  a  tender 
hand?  V/hat  are  you  looking  for— the  table-cloth?  (i» 
ah  out  to  take  it  from  cupboard  and  hand  it  to  her) 

Miss  H.  (l.  of  c,  waves  him  aside  and  gets  it  her- 
self) Oh,  pray  don't  exert  yourself.  I  can  do  my  own 
work,     (comes  to  l.  end  of  table  to  lay  cloth) 

Wolff,  (r.  of  c.  b.  end  of  table)  I  am  glad  to  see 
that  you  are  so  eager  to  work.  I  was  beginning  to  fear 
you  had  a  constitutional  objection  to  it. 

Miss  H.  (laying  the  cloth)  I  don't  object  to  work— 
work  is  good  for  everybody.  It's  the  kind  of  work  I 
object  to.  The  man  keeps  all  the  interesting  work  for 
himself,  and  sets  women  to  wash  up  the  dishes. 

Wolff,  (shows  her  his  hand,  which  is  bleeding) 
Now,  look  at  that!  '  - 

Miss  H.  Ah!  it  Is  bleeding,  (snatches  out  her  hand- 
kerchief) Let  me — (checks  her  impulse,  and  goes  back 
to  her  work  with  a  tight  lip) 

Wolff.  I  might  say  a  woman  leaves  a  man  to  haul 
wire  ropes  while  she  smooths  a  table  cloth.  Nature, 
not  ourselves  appoints  our  tasks;  and  after  all  it  is  the 
same  work.  Man  bustles  about  the  sea  and  land  getting 
the  world  ready  for  the  children.  Woman  bustles  about 
the  home  getting  the  children  ready  for  the  world. 
What  is  the  difference? 

Miss  H.  (is  getting  knives,  forks,  etc.,  from  cup- 
l>oard  and  laying  them  on  table)  For  some  women,  of 
course,  marriage  is  all  right.  There  are  plenty  of  women 
who  are  fit  for  nothing  better  than  to  be  mothers  and 
look  after  children,  (at  end  of  this  speech.  Miss  H. 
must  be  up  R.  end  of  table,  arranging  k7iives  and  forces) 
Wolff.  Fit  for  nothing  better!  Fit  for  nothing  bet- 
ter than  to  bear  and  train  the  men  and  women  who 
are  to  rule  the  world.  You  think  this  writing  of  stories 
for  the  amusement  of  dolls  on  sofas— this  lecturing  from 
platforms  of  a  world  a  million  years  old— this  chattering 
and  quarrelling  about  the  pastime  you  call  "  Art,"  higher 
work  than  the  teaching  and  guiding  of  living  souls! 
Pray  God,  child,  on  your  knees,  thzit  one  day  you  may 
become  that  noblest  and  rarest  of  women,  the 
woman  who  is  fit  to  be  a  mother! — The  milk  is  boil- 
in  ^^  ever,  (springs  across  and  rescues  the  boiling  milk) 
?Iiss  H.  (u  end  of  table)  I'm  so  sorry,  I  ought  to 
have  been  wa-vjhing  it. 


MISS  HOBBS.  58 

Wolff,  (back  of  table,  l.  end  of  it)  You  had  better 
let  me  pour  it  out.     It's  rather  hot. 

Miss  H.  {holding  jug  while  he  pours)  You  men  are 
strange  creatures.  When  I  wanted  you  to  help  me  you 
wouldn't.    When  I  don't  expect  it,  you  do. 

Wolff.  You  might  remember  that,  it  is  the  key  to  a 
good  deal.  The  fog  looks  to  me  as  if  it  were  lifting. 
I'll  be  down  again  in  a  minute,     {crosses  back  of  her) 

(Exit  up   ladder) 

Miss  H.  (is  ftnishinff  laying  table  with  plates,  cups 
and  saucers,  etc.)  I  wonder  if  I  am  an  idiot.  I  wonder 
if  I  should  have  had  more  sense  if  I  had  had  a  mother 
to  talk  to  me.  {at  stove)  I  wonder  if  these  chops  are 
done. 

(Enter  Wolff) 

WoLFF.f  I  believe  the  anchor  is  holding.  It  will  be 
all  right'    Is  the  kettle  boiling? 

Miss  H.  It's  singing,  {comes  to  l.  c.  in  front  of 
table)     Hadn't  you  better  let  me  tie  up  your  hand? 

Wolff.     Oh,  it's  nothing,   {down  c.) 

Miss  H.     It  will  get  worse  if  I  don't. 

(J&'e  holds  it  out  to  Tier,  she  tears  her  handkerchief  in 
two  and  binds  his  palm  and  wrist) 

I  suppose  she  is  that  sort  of  woman. 
'    Wolff.     What  sort  of  woman? 

Miss  H.  The  rare,  noble  woman,  just  fit  to  be  a 
xnother  and  all  that. 

Wolff,     {still  not  recollecting)     V/ho  is? 

Miss  H.    Why  she — the  lady  with  the  attractive  eyes. 

Wolff.  Oh,  yes,  I  think  she  is,  underneath  it  alL 
Thank  you. 

(The  binding  is  finished) 
Miss  H.    Underneath  all  what? 
(A  boat  bumping  against  the  side  of  the  yacht) 

Jessop.  {heard  coming  from  the  sea)  Hulloa!  are 
yon  there?  {his  face  appears  framed  in  one  of  the  port- 
holes R.) 

Wolff,  (opening  the  porthole)  Hulloa  !  Where  have 
you  been  ? 


64  MISS  HOBBS. 

Jessop.  Oh,  puttering  about.  We  got  caught  In  th% 
fog.     Is  Miss  Hobbs  there? 

Miss  H.     (l.  c.)     Yes.     Where's  Milly? 

Miss  F.     (unseen)     Here  I  am,  dear,  are  you  ready? 

Miss  H.  Yes,  I'm  coming,  {takes  her  gloves  frofn  b. 
end  of  tal)le,  crossing  in  front  to  foot  of  comp  anionic  ay) 
I've  been  worried  about  you. 

Miss  F.  Oh,  you  needn't,  dear,  1  was  all  right  with 
George. 

Wolff.     You  won't  stop  to  taste  your  own  cooking? 

Miss  H.  Not  now.  Good-bye.  {shaking  hands)  and 
fchank  you  for  your  lesson. 

Wolff.     I  thought  you  would. 

(She  has  passed  him  and  is  at  foot  of  ladder;  he  is  pre- 
pared  to  follow  her  up — on  the  second  step  she 
turns) 

Miss  H.  Oh,  Mr.  Kingsearl,  you  dropped  this  climbing 
over  the  fence,  {havds  him  his  "betting  book  open  at  the 
pace)  I  hope  you'll  all  three  enjoy  your  dinner  at  Del- 
monico's  on  July  6th. 

{She  runs  up  and  disappears,  leaving  him  standing  at 
the   foot   of  the   ladder  with   the   open   book   in  his 
hand) 
[Wolff.    Damn! 

CURTAIN. 

ACT  IV. 


Scene. — The  same  as  Act  L 

Time. — 7  p.  m.  in  June. 

(Be^la,  Peech'al  and  Miss  Fakey  discovered.  They  are 
dressed  fo'  dinner  party.  Beula  sits  r.  end  of  settee, 
L.  c,  Pero    stands  behind  her.     Miss  F.  sits  b.  c.) 

Peec.  {back  of  settee)  The  question  is,  will  she 
come? 

Beula.    Well,  she  promised. 

Miss  F.  (seated  l.  of  talle,  it.  c. — emphatically) 
Then  you  can  depend  upon  kcr. 

Beula.  I  appealed  to  her  sense  of  justice.  That  is 
always  the  way  to  get  round  a  woman,  (looking  at 
Peec.)     You  know  that,  don't  you,  dear? 


MISS  HOBBS.  55 

PERC.     (fondling  her)     Yes,  darling. 

Beula.  I  said  to  her:  "You  have  misju(3?:ed  Percy. 
Now  I  v/ant  you  to  know  him.  Come  and  dine  with  us 
on  Thursday," 

Miss  F.     And  what  did  she  say? 

Beula.  Well,  the  first  thing  she  said  was:  "  Is  that 
mari  coming:?  " 

Miss  F.    Yes,  I  can  imagine  her  saying  that 

Beula.     Just  in  that  tone. 

Miss  F.     How  did  you  get  out  of  it? 

Beula.  (l.  c.)  Oh,  I  was  awfully  'cute.  I  said, 
"Well,  of  course,  dear,  if  you  don't  wish  it,  I  "won't  in- 
vite him."    And  I  haven't. 

Miss  F.     (b.  c.)     Then  isn't  he  coming  after  all? 

Beula.  I  really  couldn't  tell  you.  Of  course,  if  a 
stupid  man — (takes  Peect's  hand  and  lays  her  cheek 
against  it)  knowing  nothing  about  it  all,  meets  another 
mau  and  says:  "Weil,  if  you've  nothing  be  .er  to  do, 
old  fellow,  look  in  and  smoke  a  pipe  with  me  on  Thurs- 
day " — I  can't  be  blamed  for  that. 

Miss  F.  (laughs)  Of  course  not.  (to  Pekc.)  And 
do  you  think  he  understood? 

Perc.     He  understood.    I  took  care  of  that. 

Miss  F.  I  do  hope  things  wull  turn  out  all  right.  It 
would  be  such , 

Peec.  (listening)  Take  care,  perhaps  this  is  she. 
(goes  over — leans  against  mantelpiece) 

(The    three   assume   attitudes   of   studied   naturalness. 
Enter  Miss   Abbey,   shown  in  by  Chables) 

Chables.    Miss  Abbey. 

(Exit  and  closes  door) 
(Miss  A.    comes  down  b.,  Peec.  goes  up  and  meeti  her) 
Peec.     (kisses  her)    I  am  so  glad  you've  come. 

(Miss  A.  crosses  to  Beula,  l.,  Miss  F.  crosses  to  b.  of 
her,  Peec.  comes  down  r.  c.) 

Miss  A.  (carries  a  cap  basket  from  which  she  takes 
cap  and  fixes  it  on  her  head)  I  said  I'd  come,  didn't  I? 
(kisses  Beula  and  Miss  F.)  Is  she  coming?  i^,oes  to 
glass  and  arranges  cap) 

Beula.  (l.  c.)  Yes,  we're  expecting  her  every 
m\n\ite.     (looks  at  her  watch)     1  told  her  seven  o'clock. 

Miss  A.    And  is  he  coming?     (l.) 


56  MISS  HOBBS. 

Perc.     (b.  c.)     Yes,  I  told  him  half-past  seven. 

Miss  A.  (l.,  at  glass)  Then,  when  is  dinner?  Don^ 
we  get  any  at  all? 

Beula,  (l.  c.)  I'm  afraid  dinner  will  be  a  bit  late 
to-day.    You  see,  Aunt,  our  idea  was  to  prepare  her  first. 

Miss  A.  What  for? — dinner?  (crosses  to  l.  c,  sita 
on  settee) 

(Miss  F.  hack  of  settee) 

Beula.     (e.  end  of  settee)     No — for  him. 

Miss  A.  Oh!  Well,  from  v/hat  I've  seen  of  that  young 
man,  my  advice  would  be  to  leave  the  whole  business 
to  him. 

Beula.  Oh,  but  she  won't  see  him  at  all.  No,  before 
he  comes  we  must  explain  about  that  bet. 

Miss  F.  ihcck  of  settee)  That's  what  malces  her  so 
angry.  She  told  me  herself  she  could  have  forgiven 
everything  else. 

Pekc.  (b.  c.)  It's  a  jolly  difficult  thing  to  explain 
away.    What  on  earth  made  him  write  it  down? 

Beula.  (crosses  a  little  to  c.)  It  was  your  fault, 
Percy.     It  wasn't  a  nice  idea  of  yours. 

Perc.  I  was  so  mad  with  her.  I  thought  she  was  tak- 
ing you  away  from  me.  (she  gives  him  her  hand,  he 
kisses  her) 

:?,Ttss  a.  You  are  quite  sure  he  wants  it  explained 
away? 

Beula.  Oh,  quite.  "  My  dear  Mrs.  Percival,"  he  said, 
and  he  was  holding  my  hand  and  looking  straight  into 
my  eyes 

Miss  A.    He  would  be. 

Beula.  *'  My  dear  Mrs.  Percival,  I  am  thoroughly  in 
earnest.  She's  a  woman  one  could  go  tiger  hunting  with 
—she's  the  woman  I  want." — I  felt  so  sorry  for  hiin. 

(Enter  Jessop,  shown  in  by  Charles) 

Chables.    Mr.  Jessop. 

{exit) 

Jessop.  (comes  down  l.  c.  between  Beula  and  settee 
— shakes  hands  with  her)  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Kings- 
earl,  {wiih  Miss  A.)  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Abbey? 
{to  Peec,  crosses  to  l.  c.)  I've  been  thinking  as  I  cam€ 
along — she  hasn't  come  yet,  has  she? 

Pkbc.     (b.  c.)     Not  yet. 


MISS  HOBBS.  57 

(All  the  others  are  gathered  round  Jessop) 

Jessop.     (o.)      Weil,    look    here,    instead    of    arguing 

With  her — and  perhaps  saying  the  wrong  thing 

Miss  A.     (l.  c.)     Yes,  that's  possible. 

Jessop.     Vy'^ouldn't  it  be  better 

Beula.     (interrupting)     Hark!     There's  a  carriage. 

(They  fly  apart.     Miss  A.   and  Miss  F.  sit  on  settee 
quickly;  Jessop  and  Pero.  by  table,  b.  o.) 

(steals  to  window  and  peeps  out)    Oh,  it's  only  the  Ice 

pudding. 

{They  return,  Eeula  comes  down  r.  c,  between  Perc. 
and  Jessop — Miss  F.,  l.  of  Jessop;  Miss  A.  l.  0/ 
Miss  F.) 

Yes,  well? 

Jessop.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  treat  the  whole  thing 
as  a  joke,  (he  looks  for  sympathy,  but  finds  silence) 
Appeal  to  her  sense  of  humour,  (the  silence  deepens) 
What  do  you  think.  Miss  Abbey? 

Miss  A.  (l.  of  settee)  I  should  first  make  sure  that 
she's  got  it. 

Beula.  (b.  of  Jessop,  shaking  her  head)  No — I  feel 
coniident  that  would  never  ansv/er.  WLy,  even  I  cant 
Bee  any  joke  In  it,  (to  Peec,  u>ho  is  e.  of  her)  and  you 
know  how  keen  my  sense  of  humour  is,  don't  you,  dear? 

Perc.     (r.)     Yes,  darling. 

Beula.  No,  what  we  must  impress  upon  her  is  that 
he  has  lived  in  the  East.  It's  all  the  fault  of  his  having 
lived  so  long  in  the  East. 

(Their  heads  are  all  close  together,  the  door  l.  opens 
and  Miss  H.  enters  unperceived,  shown  in  by  Charles. 

Chasles.    Miss  Hobbs. 

(Exit  and  closes  door) 

(They  spring  apart  like  guilty  conspirators.  Their  cofir 
fusion  tells  the  girl  plainly  that  it  is  about  her  they 
have  been  talking.  She  is  nervous  and  her  manner 
is  very  distant.  In  their  different  ways  ell  except 
Miss  A.  try  to  be  gushing,  but  ^he  situation  is  too 
inuch  for  them,  and  they  feci  avckward  and  confused. 
Miss  H.  covies  to  c.  Eeula  goes  ua  to  b.  of  her,  MiM 


5S  tISS  HOBBS. 

P.  to  L.,  Miss  A.  sits  on  settee  l.  o.,  Jessop  crosses  to 
l>ack  of  settee,  Peeo.  goes  down  b.  o. 

BeuI/A.     (going  to  her  and  kissing  her)     So  good  of 
you  to  come,  dear. 
Miss  F.     (l.  of  her,  kissing  her — in  a  whisper)     It 

looks  lovely,  dear. 

Miss  H.     (c.)     I'm  afraid  I'm  a  little  late. 

Beula.  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  Dinner  will  be  a  bit 
late,  as  it  happens.  Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  hus- 
band—  {with  a  nervous  little  laugh)   my  real  husband. 

(Miss  H.  flashes  a  glance  at  her) 

I  don't  mean  that — I  mean — {wishes  she  hadn't  said 
it)     Percival,  Miss  Hobbs. 

Peec.     (r.  c;  bows)     Delighted. 

Beula.  (crosses  to  l.  c.  with  Miss  H.)  My  aunt, 
Miss  Abbey — Aunt,  Miss  Hobbs. 

Miss  A.  (l.  c,  has  seated  herself  on  settee  and  from 
her  basket  taken  out  her  knitting — holds  out  her  hand 
to  Miss  H.)  Glad  to  see  you,  my  dear— and  to  find  that 
you  are  not  at  all  like  what  I  took  you  for. 

Miss  H.  (r.  end  of  settee — shakes  hands — not  sarcas- 
tically, hut  more  from  nervousness)  It's  very  kind  of 
you  to  say  so. 

(Jessop  has  crossed  to  l.,  as  Beula  and  Miss  H.  cross 
to  L.  o.  Miss  F.  has  crossed,  and  is  down  b.  tvith 
Peso.) 

Miss  A.     (knitting)     Not  at  all. 

Beula.     (b.  of  Miss  H.)     Mr.  Jessop,  you  know. 

Miss  H.  (crosses  Beula  to  Jessop,  c.)  We  have  met 
before,     (shakes  hands  with  him) 

Jessop.  (placing  chair  from  back  of  table  for  her 
B.  0/0.)    Won't  you  sit  here? 

(Beula  sits  on  settee  with  Miss  A.) 

Miss  H.     (r.  of  c.)     Thank  you.     (sits) 

Perc.  (comes  round  to  c,  not  knoiuing  what  else  to 
say)  Very  irritating,  these  sea  fogs  we  have  been  hav- 
ing of  late. 

Miss  H.      Very. 

(Jessop,  a  little  l.  of  c,  crosses  tack  of  Pekc.  to  bacfc  of 
Miss  H..  motions  to  Pekc.  to  stop  talking) 


M1S8  H0i3BS.  59 

Peeo.  (o.)  They  come  down  in  a  moment  and  make 
a  yacht 

(Jessop  has  been  vainly  signalling  to  Mm,  .low  kicks 
him — he  stops  suddenly,  they  whisper  and  go  up  a. 
Pause — Beula.  l.,  with  her  mouth  says  to  Miss  F.: 
"You  say  something."— Miss  F.,  also  in  silence,  saijs: 
"No,  you,  dear."  Beula  sits  beside  her  aunt,  uhis- 
pers) 

Miss  A.  (knitting)  One — two — three — four — ah, 
that's  ^...ere  I  dropped  it. 

Beula.  (makes  up  her  mind  to  do  it  herself — she 
jumps  up  and  goes  across  back  of  Miss  H.,  and,  drawing 
up  a  chair  down  l.  of  table  b.  c,  sits  beside  Miss  H., 
laying  her  hand  on  Miss  H.)  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  dear, 
about  Mr.  Wolff  Kingsearl. 

Miss  H.     I  would  prefer  a  more  interesting  topic. 

Beula.  We  all  like  him  so  very  much  that  we  v;ant 
you  to  like  him,  too.  He  is  an  awfully  nice  man  when 
you  know  him.    As  for  that  silly  bet 

(Miss  H.  tries  to  rise,  Beula  almost  forces  her  back) 

No,  dear  I  insist  on  your  listening. 

Miss  H.     (sits  resignedly)     If  you  insist 

(Miss  F.  goes  up  to  c.  to  Jessop — they  work  down  l.  o.) 

Beula.  You  must  not  judge  him  by  the  ordinary 
standard.    You  see  he  has  been  in  the  East. 

Miss  H.  That's  no  excuse  for  his  coming  to  the  West 
and  insulting  the  first  woman  he  meets. 

Peec.  (comes  down  c.)  Oh,  but  Miss  Hobbs,  there 
was  no  insult  intended. 

Miss  H.  Did  he  think  I  should  regard  it  as  an 
honour? 

Pebc.  It  was  a  thoughtless  piece  of  folly,  committed 
on  the  Impulse  of  the  moment. 

Miss  H.  Was  it  the  impulse  of  a  moment  that  kept 
him  talking  to  me  for  half  an  hour — that  took  him  to 
my  house — that  prompted  him  to  keep  me  all  the  evening 
boxed  up  in  a  pokey,  stuffy  little  yacht— I  don't  believe 
the  anchor  ever  did  get  loose  (turning  suddenly  to  Miss 
F.  and  Jessop,  to  their  discomfiture)  Where  were  you 
two  all  the  time? 

iThey  look  at  each  other,  their  guilt  renders  tJiem 

dumb) 


eO  MISS  HOBBS. 

were  yoii  rowing  about  in  the  fog  for  pleasure,  or  was 
it  all  arranged?  I  think  everybody  has  been  very  •:on  id 
to  me. 

Beula.  (b.)  No,  dear,  we  only  want  you  to  see  t-ie 
thing  as  It  really  is.  Now,  that  bet,  what  was  it, 
Percy? 

Perc.  (c.)  Oh,  well,  we  were  talking— of  course, 
none  of  us  knew  Miss  Hobbs  then — and,  quite  as  a  joke, 
I  turned  to  him  and  said 

Beula.    Yes,  I  want  the  exact  words. 

Perc.  I  said — "  I'll  bet  you  a  dinner  that  you  don't 
kiss  Miss  Hobbs." 

Beula.     That  you  don't  kiss  Miss  Hobbs? 

Peec.     Yes,  I  bet  him  he  wouldn't. 

Beula.  There  you  are,  dear.  You  have  been  mia- 
judging  him  all  along.    He  bet  he  wouldn't  kiss  you. 

Miss  H.  (stares  at  her)  Good  gracious,  did  tlie  man 
think  I  was  going  to  worry  him  to?  And,  besitles,  it 
wasn't  put  that  way.  The  vrords  were,  "  That  I  kiss 
Miss  Hobbs  within  a  month."  (rises)  It  makes  me 
angrier  every  time  I  think  of  it.     (crosses  to  c.) 

(Perot  crosses  down  b.  c,  and  joins  Beula) 

Jessop.  (l.  of  c.)  You  must  remember,  Miss  Kobbs, 
that  when  he  took  that  bet  he  hadn't  seen  you.  After 
he  had  seen  you — I  know  for  a  fact  he  was  real  sorry 
he  had  made  it. 

Miss  H.  (c.)  Thank  you.  I  am  sorry  1  v/as  such  a 
disappointment  as  all  that. 

Miss  F.  (crosses  in  front  of  Jessop  r.  c.)  Oh,  no, 
dear,  George  didn't  mean  that.  You  didn't  mean  that, 
George? 

Jessop.  (l.  of  Miss  P.)  Of  course  not.  No,  what  I 
meant  was  that  before  he  had  seen  Miss  Hobbs — we  had 
all  of  us  quite  the  wrong  notion  of  her — and  we  thought 
— he  thought — she  was  a  sort  of  woman  a  man  wouldn't 
mind  kissing. 

Miss  H.  (laughing  in  spite  of  herself)  Oh,  please 
don't  explain  any  more,  Mr.  Jessop. 

Miss  F.  (l.  of  c.)  No,  dear,  what  it  seems  to  me  is 
this.  He  had  heard  about  you,  and  he  thought  it  would 
be  a  feather  in  his  cap  to  kiss  you.  You  know  men  don't 
think  about  these  things  as  we  do — to  kiss  a  woman 
that  no  man  has  ever  kissed  before 

Miss  H.  (c).  Bow  do  you  know?  You  all  talk  as 
though  I  were  some  awful  creature  that  no  man  would 
ever  come  near.    It  wasn't  nice  of  you,  Beula,  to  asi:  me 


MISS  HOBBS.  (JJ 

kere  merely  for  this.  I  won't  listen  to  any  of  you  any 
more. 

iEnter  Wolff,  shown  in  by  Charles.  In  the  excitement, 
no  one  hut  Miss  A.,  wlio  is  still  knitting,  sitting  on 
settee — notices  his  entrance.  Charles  waits  to  speak, 
and  Wolff  stands  taking  in  the  situation.  He  is 
dressed  in  light  tweed  travelling  suit,  and  has  hat 
and  gloves  in  his  hand) 

I  never  want  to  hear  Wolff  Kingsearl's  name  again,  and 
I  wish  he'd  go  back  to  the  East.  Perhaps  women  over 
there  like  being  made  the  subject  of  bets. 

Charles,  (v.p  l.  c,  taking  advantage  of  pause)  Mr, 
Wolff  Kingsearl. 

Perc.     (b.  0.)     Hulloa!     Why,  this  is  a  surprise. 

(Miss  H.  turns  her  hack — goes  up  to  window  l.  c.) 

Wolff,     (comes  down  from  c.  to  r.  c,  to  Pebc.  and 
Beula)    I've  just  looked  in  to  say  good-bye. 
Beula.     (b.)     To  say  good-bye? 

(Miss  H.  at  window,  looking  out,  lack  to  room — Misa 
F.  L.  end  of  settee,  Jessop  down  l.  c,  Beula,  Pebc.  and 
Wolff  e.) 

Wolff,  (b.  of  o.)  I'm  leaving  by  the  eight  o'clock 
train  to-night. 

Beula.    When  are  you  coming  back? 

V/OLFF.  In  about  four  years,  I  expect,  I'll  set  my  next 
leave. 

{A  movement  of  Miss  H.'s  head  shows  she  is  listening) 

Pebc.    But 

(Beula  and  Perc.  sink  their  voices  and  talk  to  him  in 

a  whisper) 

Miss  A.  (on  settee)  Milly,  my  dear,  your  legs  are 
younger  than  mine.  I  wish  you'd  go  down  stairs  for 
me. 

(Miss  F.  crosses  over  to  her) 

{aside)    Take  your  young  man  with  you  and  stop  thera 

(Miss  F.  nods,  walks  on  tiptoe  to  Jessop) 


^2  MISS  HOBBS. 

(They  exeunt  quietly) 

Beula.     (r.)     But  it's  so  sudden. 

V/OLFF.     (c.)     I  fear  my  resolutions  generally  are. 

Pebo.     («.  c.)     You  can  surely  stop  to  dinner. 

Wolff.  Impossible — I  must  catch  the  eight  o'clocll 
train. 

Miss  A.  (l.  c.)  There  might  be  time  for  us  to  drink 
Mr.  Wolff's  health  in  a  glass  of  champagne,  Percy,  if 
you  went  down  stairs  and  opened  it. 

Beiila.    Yes,  do,  my  dear. 

(Peeo.  starts  up  c.  to  door  l.) 

(crosses  to  o.  after  hivi)     Bring  it  here. 

Pekc.     {at  door)     Shall  1? 

Miss  A.  (has  put  her  knitting  away  and  risen-^ 
crosses  to  c.)  Certainly  not.  We  can't  drink  cham- 
pagne in  the  drawing-room. 

Beula.    Why  not? 

Miss  A.  (takes  Beula  l)y  the  shoulders  and  praO' 
tically  puts  her  out)  Because  the  proper  place  for  us 
is  the  dining-room. 

(Exit  Beuiji — Pebc.  has  already  gone  out) 

(Miss  H.,  l.,  has  her  back  to  room.  Miss  A.  turns. 
In  a  moment  Wolff  snatches  the  little  old  lady  up 
and  gives  her  a  hug — she  shakes  her  fist  at  him  play- 
fully  and  exits,  Wolff  following  her  up  to  door) 

Wolff,     (pauses  up  l.  c.)     Won't  you  say  good-bye? 
Miss  H.     (without  turning)     Good-bye. 
Wolff.    V/on't  you  shake  hands?    \Ve  may  never  see 
each  other  again. 

(She  turns  very  slowly,  comes  and  gives  her  hand) 

There  is  one  thing  I  should  like  to  convince  you  of. 

Miss  H.  I  warn  you  beforehand  that  you  vrill  not 
succeed. 

WoLjfF.  It  is  only  this:  that  I  did  not  mistake  you  for 
a  lady's  maid.  I  fancy  for  a  while  you  were  under  the 
Impression  that  I  had.  I  should  be  sorry  for  you  to 
think  rae  80  bad  a  judge  of  faces.  r-»od-bye.  (drops 
her  hand  and  moves  away) 

Mis6  n.     Before  you  go — (comes  down  a  little  b  .c.) 

(Wolff  places  his  hat  on  table  i..  c— promptly  returns} 
There  ifi  one  thing  I  should  like  explained. 


MISS  HODBS.  fi? 

WOTTV.     (c.)     It  shall  be — (under  Jiis  Ireafh)   son.t; 
how. 

Miss  H.  If — as  it  would  seem — you  were  desirous  of 
-^{hcsitctcs) 

WoiFF.     Of  winnir-e   that  bet — which    I  was 

Miss  H.  Then  why,  on  every  occasion,  did  you  gd 
out  of  your  way  to  irritate  and  vex  me? 

Wolf?,  {cojnes  close  to  her)  Would  the  con  .  r;tional 
method  of  wooing  the  conventional  young  lady  have 
succeeded  better  with  you? 

Miss  H.  (quickly)  You  told  me  you  thought  me  a 
very  ordinary  type  of  woman. 

WoLiF.  As  you  say,  I  went  out  of  my  v/ay  to  irritate 
yon.  I  felt,  the  moment  I  saw  you,  that  the  stock  com- 
pliraents— the  stock  attentions  a  man  keer^  for  most 
women,  would  be  useless.  Besides  there  was  another 
reason. 

Miss  H.     What  was  that? 

Wolff.  It  might  make  you  still  more  indignant  with 
me. 

Miss  H.     I  don't  think  it  possible. 

Wolff.  Have  you  ever  looked  in  the  glass  when  you 
v.ere  angry? 

Miss  H.  I  am  not  such  a  student  of  my  glass  as  you 
evidently  suppose  me. 

Wolff.  If  ever  you  feel  angry  again— after  I  am 
gone—look  into  it.  Note  the  fiashing  of  your  eyes  under 
the  level  brows,  the  swift  flush  on  the  cheek,  the  slight- 
ly parted  lips.  Note  the  quick,  imperious  movement  of 
the  head,  the  curved  line  of  the  throp.t.  You  v-'VA  vn- 
derstand  how  a  man  who  has  once  seen  you  thus  is 
tempted  to  make  you  angry  again.     Guod-bye.     {la-ovea 

away)  ,^   ,., 

Miss   H.     There   is   one  other   thing   I    wouid   ake   to 

knew 

V/oLFF.     (returning)     Yv^hat  is  that? 

Miss  H.  V/hat  would  the  lady  with  the  attractive  eyes 
— "  the  somewhat  particular  young  ladv  "—he  likely  to 
Bay  should  she  hear  of  this— this  sportsmanlike  bet 
of  vours? 

Wolff.  That  she  never  wanted  to  hear  Woiff  Kmgs- 
earl's  name  again.  That  she  wished  he'd  go  back  to  the 
East— Do  you  mean  to  say  you  didn't  guess  that? 

Miss  H.  The  idra  did  occur  to  m.e,  but  I  reflected 
that  the  woman  a  man  had  made  a  jest  of  with  his 
friends  could  hardly  be  the  woman  for  whom  lie  had 
regard. 


64  MISS  HOBBS. 

(Wolff  raovea  uway) 

You  admit  it  was  not  a  nice  tiling  to  do? 

Wolff.  Nice?  It  v/as  infamous — disgraceful:  to  have 
made  such  a  bet  about  any  woman — would  iiave  been 
bad  enough — to  make  it  about  you  was  a  crime. 

Miss  11.     There  was  no  excuse  for  you. 

Wolff.     None    whatever. 

Miss  H.  You  see,  even  you  yourself  can't  thiiik  of 
any. 

Wolff.     You  are  right.     I   can't — there   is  none — ex- 


cept  

Miss  H.     (eanerly)     Except  what? 

WouF.    No — that  is  no  excuse  at  all. 

Miss  H.     I'm  the  best  judge  of  that — let  me  bear  it. 

Wolff.  No — to  a  boy  it  might  have  been  an  excuse. 
A  boy — quite  unprepared  for  you — expecting  something 
very  different — might  have  had  his  head  turned  at  first 
Bight  of  3''ou.  For  a  boy — with  your  eyes  haunting  him. — 
to  have  done  any  damned  silly  trick — I  beg  your  pardon 
—would  have  been  understaiKlable.  But  a  man  of — 
seven  and  twenty  doesn't  lose  his  wits  over  a  woman — 
or,  if  he  does,  he  oughtn't  to. 

Miss  H.     That  might  have  been  an  excuse 

Wolff.  That's  what  I  saj'^ — it  might  have  been,  but  It 
Isn't. 

Miss  H.  Because,  as  it  happens,  the — the  silly  trick 
was  committed  before  you  saw  me. 

Wolff.     "Before?"     I  don't  understand  you. 

Miss  H.  (7noves  away)  You  made  that  bet.  Mr, 
Kingsearl,  before  you  ever  set  eyes  on  me. 

Wolff,  (after  a  pause)  I  hare  doDe  some  foolish 
things  in  my  life,  I  admit,  hut  I'm  not  mad — not  yet. 
And  no  one  but  a  madman  would  announce  his  inten- 
tion of  setting  to  work  to  win  for  his  wife  a  woman  he 
had  never  set  his  eyes  on. 

Miss  H.     The  bet  merely  said  "  to  kiss." 

Wolff.  Precisely.  It  takes  two  people  to  kiss.  I 
could  not  suppose  for  a  moment  you  would  permit  sucln 
a  salute  from  any  but  the  man  to  whom  you  were  en- 
gaged, (sees  the  impression  he  has  made  and  (iocs  on) 
That  bet,  in  other  words,  meant,  "  I  have  just  seen  and 
talked  to — here,  in  this  very  room,  the  most  bewitch  ag, 
the  most  piquante,  and  the  most  exasperating  girl  in 
the  world.  You  fellows  think  that,  because  ever?;-  strut- 
ting coxcomb  is  not  to  her  fancy,  that  no  man  will  win 
her.  It's  madly  conceited  of  me  to  dream  of  it,  Imt  I 
feelieye  I  might.    Anyhow,  I'm  going  to  try,  heart  and 


MISS  HOBBS.  66 

•oul.**  No  man  should  have  written  snch  sacred  thougbts 
as  these  in  a  belting  book.  He  should  have  ref'=>cro<i 
upon  ths  indignity  to  which  he  was  sxposing  her  .uom 
it  should  be  his  privilege  to  honour  with  his  highest 
thoughts.  To  say  that  his  brain  was  dariCin-:  wildly 
at  the  time,  is  no  excuse.  It  oi:ghtn't  to  have  been  dano- 
ing  wildly — not  as  wildly  as  all  that. 

Miss  H.  The  others  are  quite  under  the  impression 
that  you  took  the  bet  before  you  saw  me. 

Wolff.  They  were  linaware  of  your  visit  here,  and 
their  estimate  of  my  sanity  appears  to  have  been  on  a 
par  with  your  own.  When  the  bet  was  first  suggested,  I 
laughed  at  the  idea,  and  dismissed  it.  The  moment  they 
left  the  room,  you  came.  It  was  after  you  had  gone  I 
wrote  it  down. 

Misa  H.     It  was  very  sudden. 

Wolff.     What,  the  bet? 

Miss  H.     No — your — liking  for  me. 

Wolff.  Love  always  is  at  first  sight.  It's  In  the  find- 
ing it  out  that  people  waste  so  much  time.  Well,  this 
has  been  of  some  use  to  me.  It  has  shown  me  the  evils 
of  betting.  Few  men  have  lost  more  than  I — good-bye. 
(takes  up  hat  from  tahle  and  makes  resolutely  for  the 
door) 

Miss  H.  You  still  persist  in  your  programme  of  vex- 
ing me. 

Wolff,     (hy  door)     How? 

Miss  H.  By  going,  (she  says  this  in  a  half  whisper, 
icith  the  suggestion  of  a  sol)  in  her  voice,  and  moves 
axcay  B.) 

Wolff,  {puts  down  his  hat  and  comes  back  to  her 
— now  he  is  quite  serious)  This  is  not  a  trick.  I  have 
to  go.  Not  for  a  week  or  two,  I  need  not,  but  soon.  I 
have  been  offered  a  very  important  appointment.  But 
it  may  mean  occasionally  roughing  it. 

Miss  H.  (r.  of  c.)  Could  you  put  up  with  my  coffee? 
(her  face  is  still  turned  away  from  hivi) 

Wolff,  (c.)  It  would  be  the  most  delicious  coffee 
in  the  world. 

(She  turn^  to  him.     Enter  Charles) 

Charles,     (il'p  l.  c.)     Oh,  I  beg  pardon.     I  thought 

•verybody  was  here. 

Wolff,  (confuted  this  time)  Oh — aren't  they?  Oh, 
no — 5=0  they  are  not.  I  really  don't  know  where  they  are, 
Charles. 

(Enter  Beuul,   followed   by  Pebc,   door  L.) 
6 


66  MISS  HOBBS. 

Beula.     (up  L.  c.)     Oh,  is  dinner  ready,  Charles. 
Charles,     (o.)     Yes,  mum.    Cook  says  shall  she  diaSi 
up? 
Beula.    Yes,  certainly — at  once. 

(Exit  Chaeles) 

{Enter  Miss  Abbey,  comes  down  L.  o.  to  settee) 

Mi8s  A.    I  think  we  shall  all  be  glad  of  it. 
Miss  H.     (b.  of  c,  to  Bella)     If  you  don't  mind,  dear, 
I  don't  think  I'll  stop  to  dinner. 
Pero.     (l.  c.)     Not  stoii!     Oh,  nonsense! 
Beula.     (u  of  o.)     Not  stop! 

(Enter  Miss  F.  and  Jessop — they  work  down  e.  c.) 

Miss  H.  (r.  f  o.)  No.  dear,  I  feel  I  should  like  to 
go  home  and — Please  forgive  me,  dear,  I  don't  feel 
hungry  to-night. 

Beula.     It  will  be  such  a  disappointnient  to  ue  all. 

Miss  H.  I'm  so  sorry,  dear,  I  don't  feel  I  could  eat 
anything  to-night.  Instead,  let  ua  all  go  to  New  York 
to-morrow  and  dine  at  Delmonico's.  (goes  to  Wolff,  c, 
and  kisses  him)     Your  husband  will  pay. 

(Exit) 

Wolff.  I  may  look  in  later  on.  (snatches  up  hii 
%at) 

(Exit  after  Miss  H.) 

^The  five  stand  looking  at  each  ether\j 


CURTAIN. 


The  Return  of  Hi  Jinks 

A  comedy  in  fcur  acts,  by  Marion  Short,  author  of  "The  Varsity 
Coach,"  '"The  Touch-Down,"  etc.  6  males,  8  females.  Costumes 
modern.     One  interior   scene. 

This  comedy  is  founded  upon  and  elaborated  from  a  farce  comedy 
in  two  acts  written  by  J.  H.  Horta,  and  originally  produced  at  Tuft's 
College. 

Hiram  Poynter  Jinks,  a  Junior  in  Hoosic  College  (Vv'illie  Collier 
type),  and  a  young  moving  picture  actress  (!Mary  Pickford  type),  are 
the  leading  characters  in  this  lively,  modern  farce. 

Thomas  Hedge,  a  Senior,  envious  of  the  popularity  of  Jinks,  wishes 
to  think  up  a  scheme  to  throw  ridicule  upon  him  during  a  visit  of 
the  Hoosic  Glee  Club  to  Jinks's  home  town.  Jinks  has  obligingly  acted 
as  a  one-day  substitute  in  a  moving  picture  play,  in  which  there  is  a 
fire  scene,  and  this  gives  Hodge  his  cue.  He  sends  what  seems  to 
be  a  bona  fide  account  of  Jink's  heroism  at  a  Hoosic  fire  to  Jink's 
home  paper.  Instead  of  repudiating  his  laurels  as  expected,  Jinks 
decides  to  take  a  flyer  in  fame,  confirms  the  fake  story,  confesses  to 
being  a  hero  and  is  adored  by  all  the  girls,  to  the  chagrin  and  dis- 
comfiture of  Hodge.  Of  course,  the  truth  comes  out  at  last,  but 
Jinks  is  not  hurt  thereby,  and  his  romance  with  Mimi  Mayflower 
comes  to  a  successful  termination. 

This  is  a  great  comedy  for  amateurs.  It  is  full  af  funny  situations 
aud  ii  gttie  to  please.  Price,  30  Cents. 


J 


une 

A  n»»4  successful  comedy-drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran, 
author  of  "The  New  Co-Ed, "  "Tempest  and  Sunshine,"  "Dorothy's 
Neighbors,"  etc.  4  males,  8  females.  One  interior  scene.  Costumes 
modem.     Plays  2J4  hours. 

This  play  has  a  very  interesting  group  of  young  people.  June  is 
an  appealing^  little  figure,  an  orphan  living  with  her  aunt.  There  are 
a  number  of  delightful,  life-like  characters:  the  sorely  tried  likeable 
Mrs.  Hopkins,  the  amusing,  haughty  Miss  Banks  of  the  glove  depart- 
ment, the  lively  Tilly  and  Milly,  who  work  in  the  store,  and  ambitious 
Snoozer;  Mrs.  Hopkins's  only  son,  who  aspires  to  be  President  of  the 
United  States,  but  finds  his  real  sphere  is  running  the  local  trolley 
car.  The  play  is  simplicity  itself  in  the  telling  of  an  every-day  story, 
and  the  scenic  requirements  call  for  only  one  set,  a  room  in  the 
boarding  house  of  Mrs.  Hopkins,  while  an  opportunity  is  afforded  to 
introduce  any  number  of  extra  characters.  Musical  numbers  may  be 
iatroduced,  if  desired.  Price,  30  Cents, 

Tempest  and  Sunshine 

A  comedy  drama  in  four  acts,  by  Marie  Doran.  5  males  and  3 
females.     One  exterior  and  three  interior  scenes.    Plays  about  2  hours. 

Every  school  girl  has  revelled  in  the  sweet  simplicity  and  gentle- 
ness of  the  characters  interwoven  in  the  charms  that  Mary  J.  Holmes 
commands  in  her  story  of  "Tempest  and*Sunshine."  We  can  strongly 
recommend  this  play  as  one  of  the  best  plays  for  high  school  pro- 
duction published  in  recent  years.  Price,  30  Cents. 

(The  Above  Are  Subject  to  Royalty  When  Produced) 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  West  38th  Street,  New  York  City 

Hew  and  Explicit  Descrlptivs  Catalosue   Mailed  Free   as  Request 


JUST  PUBLISHED 

Nothing  But  the  Truth 

A  Farcical  Comedy  in  Three  Acts 
By 
James  Montgomery- 
Cast  of  Characters 

Bob  Bennett 

B.  M.   Ralston 

Clarence  Van  DuseB 

Bishop  Doran 

Dick  Donnelly 

Gv,  en 

Mrs.  Ralston 

Ethel 

Mable 

Sable 

Martha 

SCENES 

ACT  1.    A  Broker's  Office 

ACT  2.     Parlor  of  a  Country  Home 

ACT  3  "  "  "  " 

TIME:     The  Present 

"Nothing  But  the  Truth"  is  built  upon  the  simple  idea 
of  its  hero  speaking  nothing  but  the  absolute  truth  for  a 
stated  period  He  bets  a  friend  ten  thousand  dollars 
that  he  can  do  it,  and  boldly  tackles  truth  to  win  the 
monev.  For  a  very  short  time  the  task  is  placidly  easy, 
but  Truth  routs  out  old  man  Trouble  and  then  things  be- 
gin to  happen.  Trouble  doesn't  seem  very  large  and 
aggressive  when  he  first  pokes  his  nose  into  the  noble 
resolve  of  our  hero,  but  he  grows  rapidly  and  soon  we 
see  our  dealer  in  truth  disrupting  the  domestic  relations 
of  his  partner  In  fact,  Trouble  works  overtime,  and 
reputations  that  have  been  unblemished  are  smirched. 
Situations  that  are  absurd  and  complications  almost 
knotted,  pile  up,  all  credited  to  Truth,  and  the  result  of 
the  wager  to  foster  and  cherish  that  great  virtue  from 
the  lips  of  the  man  who  has  espoused  the  cause  of  truth 
to  win  a  wager.  .     ,  ,     j        * 

It  is  a  novel  idea  and  so  well  has  it  been  worked  out 
that  an  audience  is  kept  in  throes  of  laughter  at  the 
seemingly  impossible  task  to  untangle  snarls  into  which 
our  hero  has  involved  all  those  he  comes  into  contact 
With  It  is  a  clean  bright  farce  of  well  drawn  charactera 
and  was  built  for  laughing  purposes  only.  ,,  „  ^ 

William  Collier  played  "Nothing  But  the  Truth  for  a 
year  at  the  Longacre  Theatre,  New  York,  and  it  has  been 
on  tour  for  over  two  seasons. 

Afler   three   years   continuous    success   on   the   profess- 
ional stage  we  are  now  offering  "Nothing  But  the  Truth 
for  amateur  production.      It  is   one   of   the   funniest   and 
brightest  farces  ever  written,  and  it  is  admirably  suite'* 
to  siraateur  production. 

Price  6o  Cents 


(FRENCH'S  AHERICAN   EDITION 


HTST  PI72USHZZX 

"A  COUNTRY  KID.* 

A  RuRAX.  Meert  American  Comedy  in  Three  Acts. 

Tliis  play  is  particularly  adapted  to  amateurs,  and  is  one  of  the  best  "  Rube"  {olM* 
j%at  has  been  published  in  recent  years,  Mr.  Scovilie,  the  author,  having  t(nire>d  th« 
United  States  with  the  play  for  two  or  three  seasons  with  enormous  success.  Tb« 
play  is  full  of  comedy  and  strong  situatiuns.  It  has  six  male  and  three  female  char- 
meters.  There  re  good  parts  for  a  villain,  a  tramp,  and  a  farmer,  to  say  nothli'g  o( 
toe  "  CoaHtry  Kid,"  which  is  a  rip-roarer.  The  parts  for  a  leading  juvenile,  a  .'^a- 
brette,  aad  a  chyjacter  old  woman  are  exceedingly  good.  Songs  and  dancesi  aao 
other  specialties  can  be  introduced  iu  the  play  if  no  desired.  It  is  sure  te  be  a  grm/ 
^  wh^Ter  produced. 

Price,   30  Cents. 


JVST  PUBLISHED. 


"MINE  FALLS; 

aR,  The  m:ille:r*s  oauqhter.'" 

(An  Idtl  of  Yankeeland.) 

A  RTTRAL  COMEDY  IN  FOUR  ACTS. 

By  HERBERT  DURRELL  SflART, 

Bifjkt  MaU,  ThrM  Female  Characters.      Scenery  EasUy  Arranged. 
Costumes  Modem. 

Amateurs  will  find  this  one  of  the  easiest,  brightest  and  most  mirthful  of  comediw 
so  produce.  The  play  is  built  on  the  life  and  chnracter  of  a  tyijical  old  New  England 
fljUler,  who  is  also  Justice  of  the  Peace.  This  piece,  which  is  brimiul  of  cosnedy  and 
good  situations,  a£ords  sccije  for  easy  character  ac'rinK,  and  creates  unlimited  merri' 
gient.  Humor,  wit,  sentiment  and  pathos  are  most  ingeniously  interwoven,  an^ 
•ngage  the  delighted  interest  of  spectators  from  first  to  lasL  It  will  make  a  sore  Ui 
a  all  localities.    Price,  30  Cents. 


jUST  PUBLISHED. 

THE  VILLAGE  BELLE 

A  KUW  RURAL  COMEDY  Ty  THREE  ACTS^ 
By  HERBERT  DURRELL    SMART 
Author  of  ''Mine  FaUs.     ''A  JUtistic   Wooing      eic^  «te. 
Kr.  Smart's  plav,  '^Mine  Fa^B.  or.  The   Afiller's  Daughter, "  has  made  a*  f 

twmendoos  snccess  that  we  t&ke  pleasure  in  offering  "  The  Village  Belle. 

Eiirht  male,  three  female  characters      S'-»rnery  easily  arranged. 
Costumes  modern  and  rustic. 

'LTie  Btory  of  the  play  is  laid  \v  a  New  E^m rehire  village,  not  f..i-  from  Cmk^ 
,j.,.,  ,*.,  ^^1  jife  and  charart^^r  of  that  vioinirv  is  trutr. fully  de-.-trted.  "inle  a 
4  iinr;,!..  iy  effective  and  ensv  play  on  the  -'rura*"  order.  conbMnTng  pien.y  ct 
r.vi-  or  a  :,a  dramatic  incident.  I:  )b  an  ad  ••-rnble  p'«iy  for  amateurs juh  P  j;"^^  » 
W'-"-(\  character  aj'd  come^'y  part^  The  le:-Vnc,  p^rts  are  -  oarticnterlT  gvoc  v*, 
\iysst.  vA  tb«  o>«ce  IB  easily  fVjBfk    Si»s» » «>^ evenins. 


JOST  TOBUSHEB, 

CHRISTOPHER  JUNIOR 

A  Comedy  in  4  Acts.  By  Madeleine  Lucette  Ryley.  Modern  ccs 
«ume.  Time,  2^  hours.  Three  interior  scenes;  8  males,  4  females 
Ohristopher  Jedbm-y,  Jr.,  having  accidentally  placed  himself  in  ar, 
unfortunate  position  with  a  lady  in  the  West  Indies,  is  forced  tc 
oaarry  her  without  seeing  her.  He  returns  to  England.  His  fathei 
5nds  out  about  the  marriage,  quarrels  with  him,  and  turns  him  out. 
Jedbury,  Jr.,  goes  to  India  as  a  clerk  in  his  father's  office,  theiti 
discovers  defalcations  by  the  manager,  and  falls  in  love  with  Bora 
Hedway.  He  is  reconciled  to  his  father,  and  Dora  turns  out  to  hi 
'  as  wife*  Highly  recommended  for  amateurs- 
Price,  60  Cents. 

MICE  AND  MEN 

A  Romantic  Comedy.  Four  Acts.  By  Madeleme  Lucette  Ryle|. 
Costume  about  1786.  Time,  2  hours,  30  minutes.  Three  interior> 
one  exterior  scene;  7  males,  5  females.  Mark  Embury,  a  man  of  ovej- 
forty,  is  of  opinion  that  the  perfect  wife  must  be  educated  from  a 
dtate  of  ignorance  and  simphcity  to  the  ideal  of  the  man  she  is  about 
to  marry.  He  accordingly  proceeds  to  impart  his  views  to  a  giri 
fresh  from  the  FoundUng.  His  young  nephew  comes  on  the  scene, 
and  Embury  realizes  that  nature  intended  the  young  to  mate  with 
the  young.  Tliis  beautiful  costume  comedy  can  be  played  by  all 
i'emales,  and  is  highly  recommended  for  use  by  girls'  schools  and 
colleges.  This  play  was  originally  produced  by  Mr.  Charles  Froh- 
.man  with  Miss  Annie  Russel]  in  the  leading  role. 

Price,  60  Cents. 

I"*"^^— ^iM^— ■— ^—.l^i^  I  111!  — ^^J— ^. 

SNUG   LITTLE  KINGDOM 

A  Comedy  in  3  Acts.  By  Mark  Ambient.  Modem  costume 
Time,  2 J  hours.  One  interior  scene  throughout;  3  males,  4  females. 
Bernard  Gray,  a  composer  of  music,  hves  in  a  garret  in  Soho.  Undei 
his  charge  is  a  young  girl  in  the  ballet,  whose  mother  had  died  when 
she  was  young.  Hubert  Gray,  the  brother  of  Bernard,  rescues  & 
wealthy  old  gentleman  from  an  accident,  the  lattej:*  t5ventuaU;ir  txaat 
Mg  out  to  be  the  girl's  father. 

Price.  60  Cent», 


BILLETED. 

A  comedy  in  5  acts,  by  F.  Tcnnisoo  Jesse  and  H.  Harwood.    4  males, 

5  females.    One  easy  interior  scene.    A  charming  comedy,  constructed* 

with  uncommon  skilC  and  abounds  with  clever  lines.    Margaret  Anglin's 

ibig  success.    Amateurs  will  find  this  comedy  easy  to  produce  and  popular 

with  all  audiences.  Price,  eo  Cent*. 

NOTHING  BUT  THE  TRUTH. 

A  comedy  in  3  acts.    By  James  Montgomery.    5  males,  6  females.    G)s- 
rumes,  modern.     Two  interior  scenes.    Plays  2^  hours. 

Is  it  possible  to  tell  the  absolute  truth — even  for  twenty-four  hours?  It  is — 
least  Bob  Bennett,  the  hero  of  "Nothing  But  the  Truth,"  accomplished  the 
t.  The  bet  he  made  with  hfs  business  partners,  and  the  trouble  he  got  into— 
h  his  partners,  his  friends,  and  his  fiancee — this  is  the  subject  of  William 
ilier's  tremendous  comedy  hit.  "Nothing  But  the  Truth"  can  be  whole-heartedly 
recommended  as  one  of  the  most  sprightly,  amusing  and  popular  comedies  that 
f  this  country  can  boast.  Price,  W  Cents. 

IN  WALKED  JIMMY. 

A  comedy  in  4  acts,  by  Minnie  Z.  Jaffa.  10  males,  2  females  (althougrh 
y  number  of  males  and  females  may  be  used  as  clerks,  etc.)  Two 
erior  scenes.  Costumes,  modem.  Plays  2^  hours.  The  thing  mto 
ich  Jimmy  walked  was  a  broken-down  shoe  factory,  when  the  clerks 
d  aH  been  fired,  and  when  the  proprietor  was  in  serious  contemplation 
suicide. 

Jimmy,  nothing  else  but  plain  Jimmy,  would  have  been  a  mysterious  figure 

d    it    not   been    for   his    matter-of-fact    manner,    his    smile    and    his    everlasting 

humanness.    He   put    the    shoe   business   on   its    feet,    won    the    heart    of    the    girl 

clerk,    saved    her  exring   brother   from   jail,    escaped    that   place   as   a   permanent 

boarding   house   himself,    and    foiled    the   villain.  .  j     t.     « 

Clean,  wholesome  comedy  with  just  a  touch  of  human  nature,  just  a  dash  of 

excitement  and  more  than  a  little  bit  of  true  philosophy  make  "In  Walked  Jimmy 

one   of  the  most   delightful  of  plays.    Jimmy   is   full   of  the  rehgion  of  life,   the 

-liffion  of  happiness   and   the   religion   of  helpfulness,   and  he   so  permeates   the 

:nosphere  with  his  "religion"  that  everyone  is  happy.    The  spirit  of  optimism, 

od  cheer,  and  hearty  laughter  dominates  the  play.    There  is  not*-       «a"'?'"1^"- 

any  of  the  four  acts.    We  strongly   recommend  it.  rnce,  ou  cents. 

MARTHA  BY-THE-DAY. 

An  optimistic  comedy  in  three  acts,  by  Julie  M.  Lippmann,  author  of 
the  "Martha"  stories.  5  males,  5  females.  Three  interior  scenes.  Cos- 
tumes modern.    Plays  2^  hours. 

It   is   altogether   a   gentle   thing.,  this   play.    It   ^^   ^""  ^'^  ,^1"/^"*  J^^^  °'^^^^^ 

tashioned,   homely   sentiment,   the  kind  that  people  who  see   the   play  will   recall 

'and   chuckle  over   tomorrow   and   the  next  day.  .^..„:^* 

Miss  Lippmann  has  herself  adapted  her  very  successful  book  (o/  ^^f f«  f"V"; 
^*nd  in  d«ing  this  has  selected  from  her  novel  the  most  tf  .'"^  '°;='f  J"  J- j"/f^^^^^ 
[comedy  and  homely  sentiment  for  the  play,  and  the  result  is  t^"^'^°"f^'>^'^jJ''J^'™,; 

(Th»  Above  Are  Subject  to  R»yalty  When  Produced) 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  28-30  Weat  38th  Street,  New  York  City 

New  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogfuc  Mailed  Free  on  Request 


FRENCH'S 

Standard  Library  Edition 


Clyde  Fitch 

William  Gillette 

Augustus  Thomas 

George  Broadhurst 

Edward  E.  Kidder 

Percy  MacKaye 

Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle 

Louis  N.  Parker 

R.  C.  Carton 

Alfred  Sutro 

Richard  Harding  Davis 

Sir  Arthur  W.  Pinero 

Anthony  Hope 

Oscar  Wilde 

Haddon  Chambers 

Jerome  K.  Jerome 

Cosmo  Gordon  Lennox 

H.  V.  Esmond 

Mark  Swan 

Grace  L.  Furniss 

Marguerite  Merrington 

Hermann  Sudermann 

Rida  Johnson  Young 

Arthur  Law 

Rachel  Crothers 

Martha  Morton 

H.  A.  Du  Souchet 

W.  W.  Jacobs 

Madeleine    Lucette   Ryley 


Includes  Plays  by 

Booth  Tarkington 
J.  Hartley  Manners 
James  Forbes 
James  Montgomery 
Wm.  C.  de  Mille 
Roi  Cooper  Megrue 
Edward  E.  Rose 
Israel  Zangwill 
Henry  Bernstein 
Harold  Brighouse 
Channing  Pollock 
Harry  Durant 
Winchell  Smith 
Margaret  Mayo 
Edward  Peple 
A.  E.  W.  Mason 
Charles  Klein 
Hemry  Arthur  JoneS 
A.  E.  Thomas 
Fred.  Ballard 
Csnril  Harcourt 
Carlisle  Moore 
Ernest  Denny 
Laurence  Housmaxl 
Harry  James  Smith 
Edgar  Selwyn 
Augustin  McHugh 
Robert  Housum 
Charles  Kenyon 
C.  M.  S.  McLellan 


French's  International  Copyrighted  Edition  con- 
tains plays,  comedies  and  farces  of  international 
reputation;  also  recent  professional  successes  by 
famous  American  and  English  Authors. 
Send  a  four-cent  stamp  for  our  new  catalogue 
describing  thousands  of  plays. 

SAMUEL    FRENCH 

Oldest  Play  Publisher  in  the  World 
28-30  West  38th  Street,        NEW  YORK  CITY 


14  DAY  USE 

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